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Frederick  Barharossa. 

He  e’er  was  in  my  sight  through  all  the  battle ; 

I saw  him  ever  here  and  ther.e,  performing 
Marvels  of  valor  wheresoe’er  he  went. 

Mil.  The  great  gods  bless  him  ! 

Adras.  And,  at  last,  returning 

Unharmed  with  our  victorious  troops  to  Athens  ; 

Though  ’twas  a miracle  how  he  escaped 
Prom  all  the  foes  that  closely  pressed  him  round. 

Mil.  O,  the  sweet  powers  be  praised  that  kept  him  safe ! 
Spared  him  to  me ! One  staff  is  left  me  still, 

"While  I must  breathe  this  upper  air!  But,  sir, 

I pray  you  tell  me  more  yet  of  the  battle. 

And  how  it  was  you  took  the  enemy  captive  ? 


25 


FREDERICK  BARBAROSSA. 

From  the  excessively  cheerless  history  of  the  political  life 
of  the  German  people,  some  1,900  years  whereof  are  now 
known  to  us,  one  century  shines  forth  with  rare  glow  of 
gay  color,  though  by  no  means  iinmixed  with  dark  tints — 
a century  of  romance,  of  tremulous  gladness,  and  aspiring 
enthusiasni  of  new  awaken^  art,  culture,  and  science  ; it  is 
the  century  of  the  Hohdlistauffens,  the  century  of  the  Minne- 
singers and  Troubadours,  of  Coeur  de  Lion  and  the  Crusaders. 
Effectively,  this  century  is  ushered  in  by  the  grand  figure  of 
the  blue-eyed,  golden-haired  emperor,  Frederick  Barba- 
rossa,  or,  rather,  Frederick  von  Hohenstauften.  A rare 
romance  circles  around  his  dynasty,  a romance  gilded  with 
all  the  splendor  of  power  on  earth,  and  promising  endurance 
for  ages,  yet  ending  abruptly,  after  a mere  hundred  years  of 
existence,  in  the  woeful  tragedy  of  a scaffold.  But  love  for 
the  fair  beauty  of  Italy,  which,  ever  since  the  days  of  Char- 
lemagne, thrilled  and  drew  to  destruction  the  rulers  of 
Germany — which  seems  to  have  impassionated  these  men 
of  the  northern  climes  with  tierce  desire  to  revel  in  the 
glories  of  her  body — proved  also  the  element  of  destruction 
to  the  Hohenstauffen  family,  and  at  last  delivered  into  the 


26 


The  Western, 


hands  of  the  executioner  that  “sweet  young  man,’’  Con- 
radin,  the  last  of  the  race,  of  whom  we  have  preserved  to 
us  two  Minnesongs  that  mourn  touchingly  his  lady’s  hard- 
hearted ness  in  considering  him  too  young  to  taste  the  bliss 
of  love. 

A little  ballad  by  a talented  modern  German  poet,  Count 
Moritz  von  Strachwitz,  gives  a very  effective,  Kembrandt 
sort  of  picture  of  this  tragical  end  of  the  Hohenstauffen 
rule — Barbarossa  riding  over  the  ruins  of  Milan,  and  there 
made  to  realize  in  a vision  the  doom  of  his  house : 

*‘Aye,  Longobards,  I trow  ye,  that  ride  sore  grieved  ye  then, 

Which  Frederick  Barbarossa  rode  o’er  battered  Milan. 

Light  shone  the  Emperor’s  courser,  a Frisian  ’twas  by  birth. 

With  Walish  blood  ’twas  checkered  far  over  the  saddle’s  girth. 

There  sat  the  Hohenstauffen,  from  head  to  foot  steel-clad, 

The  heavy  knob  of  his  saber  against  his  hip  he  staid ; 

His  head  thrown  grimly  backward,  his  lip  pinched,  red,  and  slim. 

His  beard  rose  as  a mountain,  each  separate  hair  flashed  grim. 

How  laydst,  Milan,  so  low  thou,  thou  erst  so  high  and  free  ; 

All  shattered  in  bloody  soaked  ashes,  thou  pearl  of  fair  Lombardy. 

The  dust  in  wind-gusts  whirled  aloft  where  columns  not  long  since  stood. 

And  trampling  over  the  marble  the  heavy-hoofed  charger  trod. 

Then  silence  over  the  ruins  — none  of  the  men  durst  speak  — 

For  his  imperial  courser  th’  avenger’d  reined  in  quick. 

Then  deeper  grew  the  silence,  and  all  men  stood  at  bay  — 

Straight  ’fore  the  victor’s  pathway  a dying  rebel  lay. 

Who,  rearing  half  his  body  up  forcibly  ’fore  the  troop. 

Looked  with  an  unextinguishable  deathlj^-some  wrath  to  him  up, 

Nor  piteously  cried.  Have  Mercy  ! nor  whiningly  begged  for  self. 

But  gnashed  from  under  his  helm  forth  the  stubborn  cry  : Here,  Guelf  I 

This  shook  the  grim  destroyer,  how  firm  he’d  seemed  till  now ; 

A dreadful  thought  struck  a-sudden  its  heavy  reins  over  his  brow. 

He  saw  by  southernly  ocean  a scaffold  gloomy  red. 

Where  the  last  Hohenstauffen  his  last  prayer,  kneeling,  pray’d.” 

To  get  anything  like  an  adequate  appreciation  of  what 
this  Barbarossa  was,  and  what  sigiiihcance  he  had  for  Ger- 
many, it  will  be  necessary  to  give  a short  sketch  of  events 
in  Germany^  from  the  time  of  that  Henry  IV.  whose  terrible 


Frederick  Barharossa . 


27 


struggle  with  Pope  Gregory  VII.  has  made  him  more 
universally  known  than  any  other  of  the  German  emperors. 
After  having  been  so  exasperatingly  humiliated  by  that  Pope 
at  Canossa,  and  restored  to  his  crown  only  througli  the 
intercession  of  the  Countess  Matilda,  Henry,  returning  to 
Germany,  found  it  of  immediate  necessity  to  strengthen 
himself  by  raising  some  new,  reliable  friends  to  whatever 
power  he  had  in  his  hands  to  bestow.  In  pursuance  of  this 
policy  he  gave  to  Count  Frederick  von  Bueren,  an  intimate 
friend  and  a man  somewhat  of  his  own  stamp — proud  and 
haughty,  but  gifted  with  far  greater  self-control,  amiability, 
and  firmness  of  character — the  Dukedom  of  Suabia,  at  the 
same  time  bestowing  upon  him  the  hand  of  his  daughter 
Agnes.  Von  Bueren  shortly  afterwards  removed  his  castle 
from  the  foot  of  a mountain  named  Hohen  Stauffen  to  its 
summit,  and  he,  having  christened  that  new  castle  Hohen- 
stauffen,  was  ever  after  called  by  that  name  ; though  he 
and  his  family  were  also  known  by  the  name  of  Weiblingen, 
from  their  castle  Weibling,  a name  'which  the  Italians  in 
latter  times  chano^ed  into  Guibelline — a terrible  word  in  the 

O 

history  of  Italian  politics.  Frederick  von  Hoheiistauffen 
served  his  emperor  faithfully  to  the  end,  and  showed  the 
same  fidelity  to  the  son,  Henry  V.  In  consideration  of  the 
great  services  of  this  family,  Henry  V.,  besides  confirming 
the  Dukedom  of  Suabia  to  Frederick’s  oldest  son,  also  called 
Frederick,  endowed  his  second  son,  Conrad,  with  the  Duke- 
dom of  Franconia.  The  widow  of  the  first  Frederick  von 
Hohenstauffen,  his  sister  Agnes,  he  married  to  the  Margrave 
Leopold  of  Austria,  from  the  house  of  Babenberg,  thereby 
laying  the  foundation  of  that  intimacy  between  the  houses 
of  Babenberg  and  Hohenstauffen  which  subsequently  proved 
so  great  a boon  to  art  and  literature. 

Even  before  Emperor  Henry  IV.  had  thus  laid  the  foun- 
dation of  the  grandeur  of  the  house  of  Hohenstauffen,  he 
hid,  with  the  same  view  of  raising  himself  new  and  powerful 


28 


The  Western. 


friends,  though  probably  in  this  instance  also  influenced  by 
the  Countess  Matilda,  conferred  the  Dukedom  of  Bavaria 
upon  Welf — or,  as  the  Italians  call  him,  Guelf — a son  of  the 
Italian  Margrave  Azzo  d’  Este,^  having  for  that  purpose 
taken  the  dukedom  most  injustly  from  its  legal  possessor, 
Otto  of  Nordheim.  Thus,  together  with  the  family  of  the 
Hohenstauflen,  or  Guibellines,  the  famil}^  of  the  Guelfs  rose 
to  great  power  in  Germany,  {ind  both  became  in  a manner 
rivals. 

The  rivalry  soon  came  to  an  outbreak.  M^ith  the  death 
of  Henry  V.,  the  Salic  line  of  German  emperors  became 
extinct — his  wife,  Matilda,  daughter  of  King  Henry  I.  of 
England,  having  been  childless — and  a new  election  was 
ordered.  Three  candidates  were  proposed : Lothar,  of 
Saxony  ; Leopold,  of  Austria  ; and  Frederick  Hohenstauflen, 
of  Suabia.  The  two  first-named  princes  did  not  want  the 
crown,  and  begged  on  their  knees  to  be  relieved  from  its 
responsibility.  Frederick  showed  by  his  whole  manner  that 
he  considered  himself  the  only  one  fit  for  the  position.  His 
haughty  bearing,  however,  contributed  perhaps  more  than 
other  considerations  to  his  defeat.  Lothar,  of  Saxony,  was 
elected  in  spite  of  himself.  This  vexed  the  Hohenstauflens, 
both  Frederick  and  Conrad,  and  they  did  their  best  to  make 
Lothar’s  reign  a burden  to  him.  To  protect  himself, 
Lothar  made  a close  friend  of  Henry,  Duke  of  Bavaria,  a 
descendant  of  Welf ; gave  him  his  daughter  Gertrude  in  mar- 
riage ; and  made  him,  moreover,  Duke  of  Saxony.  Henry 
thus  became  greater  even  than  the  emperor  himself,  for, 
with  his  two  powerful  Dukedoms  of  Saxony  and  Bavaria, 

^ It  may  be  of  interest  to  mention  that  the  great  Leibnitz  undertook  hit 
journey  to  Italy  some  five  centuries  later  for  the  sole  purpose  of  tracing  out 
and  putting  into  historical  form  the  connection  of  this  house  with  the  German 
Brandenburg  dynasty.  The  magnificent  work  of  Leibnitz,  which  contains  the 
result  of  his  studies,  and  in  which  he  took  special  pride,  has  never  been  pub- 
lished, though  the  whole  Welf  family  of  Europe  would  seem  to  have  an 
interest  in  its  publication. 


Frederick  Barharossa. 


2D 


and  his  claim  to  the  estates  of  the  Countess  Matilda — a 
claim  based  on  his  relation  to  the  house  d’Este — his  posses^ 
sions  extended  from  the  Elb  to  Italy. 

The  death  of  Lothar  brought  the  rivalry  of  these  two 
great  chiefs  of  the  German  Empire  into  an  open  conflict. 
When  the  imperial  electors  came  together,  their  choice  fell, 
not  upon  the  powerful  Duke  of  Bavaria  and  Saxony,  but 
upon  one  of  the  Hohenstaiiflbns.  They  chose  Conrad,  of 
Franconia,  however,  instead  of  Frederick,  of  Sual)ia,  and 
Conrad  tarried  not  long  in  making  use  of  his  power  to  cui*« 
tail  that  of  his  great  rival,  of  Bavaria.  His  first  step  was 
to  ask  Henry  to  resign  his  Dukedom  of  Saxony,  alleging 
that  it  was  improper  for  any  German  prince  to  hold  more 
than  one  dukedom.  When  Henry  refused,  he  deposed  him 
of  both  dukedoms,  giving  that  of  Bavaria  to  Leopold,  of 
Austria;  but  that  of  Saxony  was,  after  Henry’s  death, 
restored  to  his  son,  the  famous  Henry  the  Lion. 

Thus  began,  under  Conrad,  King  of  Germany — he  was 
never  crowned  Emperor  of  the  Holy  Eoman  Empire  — the 
rule  of  the  Hohenstauffen  fixmily,  and  with  it  a great  change 
set  in  upon  the  people  of  Germany.  Before  that  time  the 
few  men  whose  lives  were  not,  in  some  way  or  another, 
drawn  into  the  incessant  brawls  and  battles  of  politics  had 
devoted  their  energies  either  to  the  study  of  alchemy  or  ta 
the  almost  equally  entrancing  study  of  scholastic  philoso- 
phy. For  it  was  at  this  period  that,  for  the  second  time,  a 
vast  impulse  of  study  and  learning  had  been  diverted  from 
Ireland  upon  the  people  of  France  and  Germany  ; this  time 
inaugurated  by  one  of  the  acutest  minds  known  to  philo- 
sophical history — Scotus  Erigena. 

In  our  day  it  is  almost  impossible  to  realize  the  effect 
such  men  produced  at  that  time  upon  the  general  public. 
It  is  only  in  reading  the  life  of  Abelard  that  we  catch  a 
glimpse  of  the  mental  condition  of  that  age  — multitudes 
of  those  whose  life  was  not  devoted  to  war  assembling 


30 


The  Western. 


around  their  respective  teachers  and  listening  with  the 
enthusiasm  of  panting  souls  for  some  new  unuttered  word. 

Meanwhile  the  Orient  had  opened  its  mysterious  lotus 
eye,  gazing  with  six  thousand  years  of  unfathomable  yearn- 
ing, half  doubtful,  half  hopeful,  upon  its  truant  children, 
this  same  strange  people  of  Western  Europe,  wondering 
whether  they  would  or  would  not  come  to  solve  its  world- 
long  riddle  of  the  Sphinx.  And,  whilst  through  Haroun 
A1  Raschid  it  had  made  offers  as  early  as  the  days  of 
Charlemagne,  when  the  Occident  was  not  yet  ripe  for  the 
solution,  it  now  again  arose,  and,  beckoning  with  solemn 
gesture  to  its  treasures  of  learning,  of  sciences,  of  arts,  of 
Homer,  of  Aristotle,  of  Phydias,  it  once  more  entreated  its 
blue-eyed  children  to  take  those  treasures  and  see  whether 
they  might  not  be  more  successful  in  interpreting  their 
meaning  than  their  parents  had  been.  And  yet  it  was  not 
until  the  solemn  gesture  rested  upon  the  grave  of  the  child 
of  Bethlehem  that  the  W estern  people  arose  as  one  man  to 
hasten  to  the  ajjpeal.  It  was  under  Godfrey,  of  Bouillon, 
that  the  first  crusade  set  foot  on  the  ground  of  Palestine. 

Then  arose  strange  signs  all  over  Germany.  Stragglers 
came  back  and  spoke  and  sang  adventurous  deeds  and  holy 
feelings  in  a new,  hitherto  utterly  unknown,  maimer.  The 
chant  would  start  and  halt,  and  come  back  again  to  the 
halt,  with  a kiss,  as  it  were,  of  the  same  or  a similar  sound- 
ing word,  and  men  and  women  drew  near  to  marvel  and 
thrill  with  ecstasy  at  this  beauteous  art  of  song.  Other 
stragglers  came  back  and  spoke  of  the  supreme  beauties  of 
human  form  cut  into  stone  and  marble  in  the  far-oft'  countries, 
and  of  rare  and  wondrous  designs  of  groups,  some  incom- 
prehensible in  meaning,  but  others  as  clearly  telling  their 
story  as  if  it  had  been  told  in  words  ; and  of  marvelous 
women  of  marble,  sculptured  so  impassionately  that  they 
would  fiiscinate  men  as  if  alive.  Then,  again,  came  troops  of 
men,  walking  barefoot  or  on  sandals,  clad  in  the  roughest 


Frederich  Barharossa. 


31 


gowns,  and  begging  their  way  from  one  country  to  another, 
wdth  carefully  covered  manuscripts  or  papyrus  of  pergament 
under  their  arms,  and  spoke  in  mysterious  whispers  of 
a wonderful  lore  discovered  in  the  far-off  East,  or  of  enchant- 
ing poems  of  ancient  Troy,  beleaguered  ten  years  by  a 
l^owerful  western  force,  and  all  for  the  sake  of  a Greek 
woman.  And  now  there  was  another  army  from  the  far 
West,  beleaguering  another  eastern  city,  Jerusalem,  not  for 
the  sake  of  the  beauty  of  a woman,  however,  this  time,  but 
for  the  sake  of  the  grave  of  a poor  woman’s  poor  son,  Jesus, 
the  Christ. 

With  all  these  announcements  of  a new  life,  of  new  arts, 
of  new  sciences,  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  there 
bloomed  and  sprouted  forth  in  the  hearts  of  men  all  over 
Europe  a gladness,  poetry,  and  romance  the  like  of  which 
has  never  since  been  known. 

In  our  English  literature  we  hear  the  last,  though  also  the 
most  superb,  tones  of  this  splendid  gladness  in  the  works  of 
Geoffrey  Chaucer. 

The  beginning  broke  out,  naturally  enough,  amidst  the 
men  who,  withdrawn  from  war  and  the  tumult  of  war, 
hitherto  had  nothing  but  philosophy  for  their  mental  food. 
In  rhythm  and  rhyme  poured  forth  from  their  souls  long 
suppressed  emotions  in  a rhythm  and  rhyme  that  still  shook 
unevenly  from  the  intensity  of  their  suppression.  But  soon 
the  strange  art  of  rhyme,  brought  back  by  the  stragglers  of 
the  hrst  crusade,  took  firmer  hold  amongst  the  people,  and 
broke  out  in  tones  of  half  fierce,  half  tender  beauty.  The 
•old  legends  of  Attila  and  his  fight  with  the  people  of  Bur- 
gundy, coming  with  those  of  the  horde  of  the  Niebelungen, 
were  sung  in  the  one  same  strain  all  over  the  country. 
Then,  as  the  younger  people — the  youths  and  maidens  of 
the  castles  and  the  country — asked  the  same  artist  to  sing  to 
them,  not  only  old,  forgotten  legends,  but  their  own  living, 
-every-day  feelings,  the  bard  of  the  people  changed  into  a 
minstrel  and  sang  songs  like  these,  by  the  oldest  one  known 


32 


Tlie  Western, 


of  them,  Voii  Kuerenberg,  in  the  same  strain  as  he  had 
sang  to  them  of  the  Niebelungen  : 

'‘Late  at  night  I ventured,  lady,  ’fore  thy  bed  ; 

Then  durst  I not  awake  thee,  in  sweet  slumber  laid.” 

“ This  I give  thee  no  thanks  for — now  God  save  thy  luck ! 

Surely,  I was  not  a wild  boar !”  Thus  the  lady  spoke  : 

“When  late  at  eve,  in  night-dress,  I stand  all  alone 
And  think  of  thee,  my  noble  knight,  m}’^  love,  my  own. 

Then  blooms  forth  all  my  color,  as  the  rose  blooms  on  its  thorn, 

And  in  my  heart  there  enters  many  a thought  forlorn. 

“Aye,  in  my  heart  there  centers  many  a weary  sigh, 

For  what  I have  such  longing,  and  yet  must  deny, 

Nor  ever  can  achieve  me — ’tis  a wretched  lot! 

I mean  not  gold  and  silver,  but  him  who  rules  my  thought. 

“ I nursed  me  a falcon  longer  than  a year; 

When  I had  him  so  tamed  as  I’d  wished  he  were, 

And  all  around  his  feathers  gay  tied  many  a golden  band. 

Pie  far  up  high  him  lifted  and  flew  to  another  land. 

“ Since  what  time  again  I saw  my  falcon  fly. 

Saw  all  around  his  feathers  gay  many  a silken  tie. 

And  all  around  his  breast  saw  tied  many  a band  of  red, 

God  sweetly  bring  together  whom  love  together  led.” 

In  the  first  great  crusade,  of  1096,  the  German  people  did’ 
not  take  a very  active  part ; but  when,  in  1147,  Bernard  of 
Clairveance  raised  the  second  great  outcry  over  the  dis- 
grace of  Jerusalem,  a frenzy  seiz'ed  upon  them.  When  this 
gifted  monk,  who  had  hitherto  employed  his  powerful  rhet- 
oric against  those  subtle  reasoners  of  his  age,  Gilbert  de 
la  Torrei,  Petrus  Lombardus,  Abelard,  etc.,  suddenly 
started  on  his  tour  over  the  lands  of  France  and  Germany, 
the  princes,  nobles,  knights,  and  vassals  of  every  section 
of  the  country  were  swept  along  by  his  impassioned  plead- 
ing, and  struggled  as  to  who  should  be  first  to  catch  the 
badge  of  the  cross  under  which  to  enlist.  With  the  same- 
zeal  wherewith  he  had  fought  his  scholastic  adversaries  he 
now  cried  out  for  rescue  from  the  subjection  of  the  grave 
of  Christ  to  the  sword  of  the  Saracens — a rac,e  of  men  that 


Frederick  Barharossa. 


33 


had  astonished  the  rough  Westerners  by  their  grace  of 
manner,  courtesy,  and  their  refined  behavior,  as  well  as 
by  their  fierce  bravery  and  warlike  qualities — in  the  land  of 
the  Jews  ; and,  wdth  hearts  rendered  easily  inflammable  by 
the  strange  new  life  swept  back  from  Asia  by  the  first  cm- 
sade,  the  people  followed  him.  His  speech  was  as  a wind- 
driven  fire  ; the  barefooted  monk  had  to  tear  his  cloak  inta 
shreds  to  provide  crosses  enough  for  the  enlisting  multi- 
tude. For  a long  time  did  Conrad  von  Hohenstauffen  with- 
stand the  exhortation  of  the  priest.  None  of  the  Hohenstauf- 
fens  had  ever  much  faith  in  the  crusades,  or,  indeed,  in  any 
external  paraphernalia  of  the  Church  ; but  when  this  fiery 
priest  brought  at  last  the  fullness  of  his  eloquence  in  public 
to  bear  upon  his  sovereign,  Conrad  humbly  arose  in  the 
church,  fastened  the  cross  upon  his  sleeve,  and  said  he  would 
no  longer  resist,  since  the  voice  of  God  had  spoken  within 
him.  He  had  intended  just  then  to  go  to  Kome  and  be 
crowned  Emperor  of  the  Holy  Koman  Empire  ; as  it  was, 
he  sacrificed  this  ambition,  and  gathered  all  the  nobles  under 
his  rule  to  sally  forth  with  him  to  Jerusalem.  But,  of  all 
the  knights  that  followed  him,  there  was  not  one  whom  he 
learned  to  love  and  admire  so  much  as  his  gay  young 
nephew,  his  brother  Frederick  of  Suabia’s  son,  the  future 
emperor,  Frederick  Barharossa.  In  every  battle,  first  and 
foremost  show  the  red  locks  and  beard  of  the  reckless 
youth ; if  at  eve  the  favored  knights  gathered  around  King 
Conrad’s  tent,  none  so  gay  in  making  the  night  air  ring 
with  strano-e  sonjrs  of  love  and  versified  dialoofues  between 
knight  and  lady,  Borneo  and  Juliet,  than  young  Frederick ; 
nor  did  many  exceed  him  in  the  new  lore  of  telling  rare 
legends  of  the  great  King  Arthur  in  his  fairy  realm  of 
Avondale,  or  of  Roland,  the  bravest  of  the  knights  of  Char- 
lemagne. Furthermore,  if  after  battle  or  march  calm 
counsel  was  needed,  King  Conrad  marveled  at  the  astute- 
ness and  diplomatic  skill  which  his  young  nephew  exhibited. 
And  thus  it  chanced  that  Conrad,  wisely  preferring  his  expe* 

Vol.  4,  No.  1-3. 


34 


The  Western, 


rienced  nephew  to  his  own  infant  heir,  recommended  Bar- 
barossa  to  the  votes  of  the  German  princes,  when,  shortly 
after  his  return  from  the  Crusade,  he  felt  his  end  approach- 
ing. Frederick  was  thirty-one  years  old  when  the  German 
princes,  in  accordance  with  Conrad’s  wish,  chose  him  to  be 
their  king  and  ruler. 

“Wherever  he  went,  it  seemed  as  if  he  gave  to  men, 
earth,  and  the  skies  a new,  peaceful  character,”  is  the 
remark  made  by  one  of  the  contemporary  chroniclers  of  his 
times,  in  speaking  of  Frederick.  Nothing,  indeed,  as  has 
already  been  said,  so  much  strikes  the  student  of  the  history 
of  that  time  and  century  as  this  new  character,  this  rare 
gladness,  jo3^ousness,  cheeriness,  exuberance  of  heavenly 
delight  in  living,  which  contrasts  so  sadly  with  the  subse- 
quent gloom  ; and  in  no  man  is  this  joyousness  more  admi- 
rably exhibited  than  in  the  strong,  proud,  quick  figure  of 
Frederick — blithe,  and  full  of  life  in  every  muscle  of  the 
bod}",  in  every  inch  of  his  fair,  rose-tinted  skin.  Filled  with 
the  learning,  gathered  up  by  him  on  the  Crusade — the  vista 
into  a new  life  of  deliverance  from  the  bondage  of  savagery — 
of  beauty  in  art,  and  clear  knowledge  in  science,  which  that 
learning  opened  to  his  sight,  a life  of  which  his  present  elec- 
tion would  make  him  the  chief  director  and  ornament,  no 
doubt  inspired  the  dominant  policy  of  his  whole  reign,  as  it 
colored  its  whole  life.  Culture  poured,  indeed,  just  then 
into  Europe  in  exhaustless  streams  ; if,  in  the  East,  Saladin 
opened  libraries  and  museums,  and  sent  copies  of  Aristotle 
and  Plotinus  to  new  arising  libraries  in  the  West,  by  way 
of  Spain,  the  Arabs  from  Africa  drowned  Christendom  in 
the  AYest  with  no  less  a flood  of  solid  erudition  and  romantic 
lore  ; along  with  mathematics,  astronomies,  and  metaphysical 
puzzles  came  from  them  the  Thousand  and  One  Nights  and 
the  Myths  of  the  St.  Grail. 

Nor  should  it  be  ever  forgotten  in  our  days  that,  had  it 
not  been  for  the  cloisters  which  were  being  established  in 
that  age  over  all  Europe,  the  learning  opened  to  their  Euro- 


Frederick  Barharossa, 


35 


peaii  brethren  by  the  baffled  students  of  the  East  would 
probably  have  soon  perished.  It  was  that  same  Ireland, 
which  men  nowaday  call  bigoted,  and  a stumbling-block  to 
progress,  from  which  early  Germany  and  France  received 
their  first  germs  of  civilization,  when  Columba,  Gabliis, 
Killian,  Emeran,  etc.,  traveled  over  the  wilds  of  those 
countries  to  open  the  savage  mind  of  their  inhabitants  to 
hiolier  knowledsfe,  and  which  in  a later  time  nourished  the 
freest  philosophical  thinking,  and  spread  a new  impulse  of 
study  over  all  Europe ; and  it  was  in  the  much-abused 
cloisters  of  the  middle  ages  that  men  of  rare  self-abnegation, 
and  devotedness  to  culture  of  ancient  wisdom,  literature, 
and  art,  preserved  and  elaborated  for  us  all  that  has  con- 
tributed to  bring  about  our  present  stage  of  advancement. 

Frederick  Barbarossa  sio'iialized  the  inaimuration  of  his 
reign  by  an  act  which  was  almost  too  generous  for  sound 
policy.  He  reinvested  Henry  the  Lion,  Duke  of  Saxony, 
with  the  Dukedom  of  Bavaria,  thus  restoring  to  the  Welfish 
house  all  its  former  power.  (It  may  be  mentioned,  by  the 
by,  that  the  Wellish  house  was  as  distinguished  by  its  black 
beard  and  hair  as  the  Hohenstauffens  were  famous  for  their 
blondness. ) It  is  true  that  Frederick,  being  himself  slightly 
related  by  his  mother’s  side  to  that  house,  may  have 
thought  that  this  generous  act  would  change  an  ancient  feud 
into  close  friendship  ; but  the  step  was  undoubtedly  a very 
risky  one.  With  quick  resolve  he  then  hastened  to  readjust 
on  a basis  of  peace  and  justice  the  internal  affairs  of  his 
kingdom,  so  sadly  put  out  of  order  by  the  disorganizing 
influences  of  the  last  crusade.  For,  over  the  whole  country, 
bold,  lawless  knights,  fancying  themselves  secure  in  the 
absence  of  the  nobler  princes  on  crusading  expeditions,  had 
put  up  temporary  castles,  or  taken  forcible  possession  of 
such  as  had  been  left  without  sufficient  defense,  and  from 
these  strongholds  plundered  all  travelers  that  passed  their 
neighborhood,  or  could  be  plundered  within  the  range  of 
their  forces.  To  suppress  this  extensive  land-privateering 


36 


The  Western, 


Frederick  exercised  all  his  energy  and  time.  To  secure  still’ 
more  firmly  the  administration  of  justice  at  home,  as  well 
as  to  obtain  support  in  his  great  project — the  fatal  project 
of  all  German  rulers  since  the  days  of  the  ill-starred  Charle- 
magne— of  reducing  Italy  to  closer  subjection  under  his 
rule — he  successfully  forced  the  kings  of  Denmark,  Hun- 
gary, Poland,  and  Bohemia  to  swear  allegiance  to  him. 
Thus  fixed  in  power  he  followed  the  irresistible  temptation, 
and  moved  upon  Italy. ^ At  that  time  the  northern  part  of 
Italy,  in  Lombardy,  under  the  new  upstarting  order  of 
things,  great  mercantile  cities  had  sprung  up  and  clad  them- 
selves with  all  the  power  of  kingdoms  and  empires.  It  is^ 
the  fashion  of  history  to  drift  into  raptures  of  admiration 
when  speaking  of  these  cities  and  their  republican  institu- 
tions : but  as  a mere  word  will  not  change  a fact,  so  the 
entitling  republican  the  Lombardian  cities  of  the  twelfth 
and  thirteenth  centuries  will  not,  or  at  least  should  not,  con- 
ceal what  is  so  clearly  written  in  their  history — that  nowhere 
was  less  of  individual  freedom,  less  of  justice  and  security,, 
to  be  found  than  under  the  flao:s  of  those  cities.  It  is  not, 
of  course,  to  be  supposed  that  Barbarossa  invaded  Italy  and 
struggled  with  the  enormous  power  of  those  cities  from 
any  care  for  the  welfare  of  the  people  at  large  ; nor,  again,, 
can  historians  be  blamed  very  much  if  they  base  their  dis- 
quisitions on  the  stand-point  of  nationality,  and  lament  that 
the  German  should  have  planted  his  hated  rule  upon  the 
free  soil  of  the  Italian.  These  nationality-generalizations, 
however,  are  altogether  of  little  account,  and  the  only  ques- 
tion should  be  whether  or  not  the  laws,  and  administrations 
of  laws,  of  the  King  of  Lombardy  and  “Emperor  of  the 
Koman  Empire”  represented  greater  individual  freedom, 
justice,  and  security  than  the  laws  and  rule  of  the  republican 
cities  of  Lombardy. 

2 That  Barbarossa  was  conscious  of  the  fatality  of  this  enchantment  appears 
from  the  exclamation  he  made  in  a later  time,  when  listening  to  a history  of 
Alexander  the  Great:  “How  happy  was  he  that  he  did  not  know  Italy.” 


Frederick  Barharossa . 


37 


Mixed  up  with  this  vexed  question  of  so-called  republi- 
can institutions  in  Lombardy  on  the  one,  and  imperial  rule 
of  Germany  on  the  other,  hand,  there  is  to  be  considered 
the  by  no  means  inferior  question  of  the  spiritual  rule  of 
the  Pope,  as  opposed  against  the  temporal  rule  of  the 
empire,  which  followed,  as  it  had  followed,  every  attempt  of 
l^the  German  emperors  to  fix  their  foot-hold  in  Italy.  And  it 
may  be  well  to  record  the  fact  that  never  was  a man  more 
short-sighted  and  impolitic  than  the  great  Charlemagne — 
whom  Germany  and  France  absurdly  rival  in  claiming  as 
their  own  “emperor” — when  he  laid  the  foundation  for 
the  insane  desire  of  subsequent  German  princes  to  rule  Italy, 
and  thus  engage  in  conflict  with  the  spiritual  chief  of  the 
Christian  Church.  If  Charlemagne  had  any  rule  of  con- 
duct at  all  for  his  actions,  it  was  certainly  this : To  estab- 
lish a temporal  Christian  Empire — an  empire  of  all  the 
•Christian  nations  of  the  earth.  Successfully  to  accomplish 
this,  it  was  absolutely  necessary  to  refrain  from  incurring 
any  possibility  of  a collision  with  the  established  chief  of 
the  spiritual  Christian  Empire.  And  yet  it  was  Charle- 
magne, Karl  der  Grosse,  who  not  only  incurred  the  possi- 
bility of  such  a collision,  but  made  it  unavoidable  for  all  his 
successors. 

^ In  this  his  first  visit  to  Italy,  Frederick  was  in  the  main 
successful.  In  his  great  and  magnificent  camp  on  the  Ron- 
calian  fields,  1154,  he  settled  many  existing  disputes  between 
the  larger  and  smaller  cities.  Special  complaints,  for  in- 
stance, had  been  made  against  Milan — her  oppression  of 
Lodi,  Coma,  and  other  Lombardian  cities,  a disorderly  con- 
duct which  grated  on  Barbarossa’s  soul  above  anything  else. 
He  was  then  crowned,  at  Savia,  King  of  Lombardy,  met  with 
<)ourteous  receptions  wherever  he  stayed,  and,  after  some 
little  sparring  with  Pope  Adrian,  was  crowned  Emperor  of 
I ^the  Roman  Empire,  at  Rome,  June  11,  1155. 

When  Barbarossa  returned  to  Germany  he  was  in  the 


38 


The  Western, 


zenith  of  his  glory — young,  powerful,  loved,  and  beloved — 
in  the  midst  of  a new-born  world  of  art  and  science  that  shed 
glorious  radiance  over  his  whole  German  people.  Peace 
and  security  reigned  everywhere — none  of  his  princes  dared 
to  entertain  thoughts  of  revolt.  Even  the  great  Wei  fish 
Duke  of  Saxony  and  Bavaria  was  now  his  friend  and  sup- 
porter, and,  in  his  own  city  of  Vienna,  Frederick  had  the 
select  society  of  the  Dukes  of  Babenberg  and  the  Dukes  of 
Austria,  and  the  world  of  artists  generally  that  congregated 
at  their  palaces.  And  it  was  to  be  noted  that  the  minstrels 
now  sang  no  more  altogether  in  the  Nieberungen  stanza,  but 
in  infinitely  different  forms,  and  that  the  knights  and 
princes  seemed  to  arrogate  to  themselves  altogether  this 
new  art  of  singing  in  new  tones,  though  the  old  jninstrels 
of  the  people  still  roamed  over  the  country  with  their  bal- 
lads of  the  Huns  and  Goths.  Very  few  of  these  earliest 
Minnesongs  have  been  handed  down  to  our  day.  Those 
that  follow  may  serve  as  specimens.  The  first  one,  by 
Markijrave  von  Reijensbur^,  still  resembles  the  Niebeluiuyen 
stanza  ; it  is,  one  might  say,  a timid  variation  of  it.  Those 
by  Veldeck^  move  already  with  a steadier  rhythm,  and 
betoken  the  eoming  glory  of  the  full-developed  Minnesong. 
Dietmar  von  Est’s  poems  are  also  noticeable  as  introducing 
the  Spanish  assonance  in  the  third  of  his  songs  here  given^ 
and  a variation  of  the  Niebelungen  stanza  in  the  first. 

MINNESONG  BY  MARKGRAVE  VON  REGENSBURG. 

I am,  with  genuine  steadfastness,  of  noble  knight  the  subject  blessed  ; 

How  sweet  it  seems  unto  m}^  heart  when  he  me  dearly  has  caressed  ! 

He,  whom  his  many  virtues  good 

Have  made  esteemed  by  all  the  world  ; surely  he  high  exalts  my  mood ! 

The  whole  world  cannot  take  from  me  whom  I so  long  my  choice  hava 
proved, 

The  true  love  of  my  heart  and  soul,  who  me  so  long  a time  has  loved. 

Aye,  though  the  world  should  perish  all, 

I’ll  always  gracious  be  to  him  ; then  envious  women  ’ll  meet  their  fall. 


Frederick  Barharossa, 


39 


MINNESONGS  BY  DIETMAR  VON  EST. 

I. 

Now  at  last  has  been  accomplished  what  my  heart  desired — 

A noble  woman  me  has  taken — with  her  love  inspired, 

And  now  her  subject  I am  fain, 

As  is  the  ship  to  the  pilotman, 

When  all  the  waves  and  all  the  water  mind  his  slightest  touch; 
Lo-ho-hohi ! they  take  from  me  wild  mood  overmuch. 

“I  hear  them  tell  the  many  virtues  of  a goodly  knight, 

It  touches  me  in  wond’rous  measure,  and  my  soul  makes  bright ; 
I never  now  can  him  forget,” 

A woman  spoke,  “Alas,  sweet  mate ! 

Now  must  I all  the  world  abjure  me  for  his  love  alone, 
Lo-ho-hohi ! the  blessed  man ! how  well  he’s  won  his  own  !” 

How  can  my  heart  become,  pray  tell  me,  ever  glad  again. 

Since  me  a noble  woman  worketh  so  much  woe  and  pain  ? 
Whom  I have  served  with  endless  zeal ; 

Bending  each  thought  to  her  fair  will, 

And  now  refuses  she  to  think  of  how  I’ve  suffered,  aye ; 
Lo-ho-hohi!  oh,  dear,  my  lady,  do  not  turn  away  I 

n. 

Sleep’st  thou,  sweetheart  ? Ah,  woe  us  ! 

The  morn,  too,  soon  calls  to  us ! 

A little  birdlet  warbling  sweet. 

Has  perched  upon  its  linden-seat. 

“Sweet  sleep  had  me  o’ertaken; 

Now  call’st  thou ; child  awaken ! 

Love  never  may  be  without  woe ; 

What  thou  me  bidst  I’ll  do,  and  go.” 

Softly  she  wept : “ Oh,  grievest 
Of  fates  I Thou  me  here  leavest 
And  ridest  off!  Come  soon  again  ; 

My  joy  thou  bearest  with  thee,  dear  man !” 

III. 

Alone  there  stood  a woman 

And  looked  o’er  the  heather’s  common. 

And  looked  for  her  darling. 

Then  saw  she  a falcon  soaring ; 

“ Oh,  bless  thee,  falcon,  where  thou  art. 

Thou  flyest  where  it  likes  thy  heart ! 


40 


The  Western, 


Thou  thee  in  the  greenwood  forest 
A tree  to  please  thee  choosest. 

Even  so  have  I,  too,  done ; 

I took  for  myself  and  love  a man 
Whom  my  eyes  with  care  had  chosen  ; 

Now,  envious  women  would  love  him — 

Ah,  woe,  why  let  they  my  love  not  be  ? 

Sure,  never  their  sweethearts  wished  I for  me! 

Blessed  thou  bliss  of  summer ! 

The  birdlet’s  song  whispers  slumber, 

Even  as  the  linden-leaves. 

The  whole  year  long  me  have  grieved, 

Ever  and  ever  mine  eyes,  love  I 
Take  care  thou  do  not  spy,  love. 

After  other  women ! 

My  darling,  keep  thou  from  them  ! 

When  thou  the  first  time  saw’st  me. 

So  fair,  so  fair,  thou  thought’st  me. 

So  very  sweet  and  lovable  ! 

This,  darling,  I to  thee  recall.” 


MINNESONGS  BY  HENRY  VON  VELDECKE. 

I. 

Many  a heart  brought  grief  the  cold,  cold,  winter  weather. 
It  has  conquered  both  the  greenwood  and  the  heather, 
Their  green  dress  and  bird’s  gay  feather ; 

Winter,  with  thee  all  my  sorrows  leave  together. 

When  May  comes  at  last  and  hoary  winter  wrinkles. 

And  sweet  dew  the  meadow’s  fiowers  all  besprinkles. 

And  the  greenwood  with  song  tinkles — 

Then  the  eye  of  my  love  with  enjoyment  twinkles. 

My  love  likes  to  take  me  to  the  linden’s  cover. 

He  whom  I’d  press  to  my  heart  and  kiss  all  over; 

He  shall  pluck  there  flowers,  ni}’^  lover  ! 

For  a rare  wreath  we  will  wrestle  in  the  clover ! 

I know  well  he  ne’er  will  take  from  me  the  pleasure 
My  heart  found  in  him,  that  joy  and  rare  love  treasure 
Which  gives  ever}"  grief  short  measure. 

By  us  both  were  many  flowers  crushed  in  fond  pressure. 

With  white  arms  in  my  embrace  I’ll  fondly  fold  him. 

With  my  red  mouth  to  his  mouth  glued,  sweetly  hold  him. 

Whom  my  eyes  confessed  and  told  him 

Dearest  of  all  things  they  saw,  and  so  inthralled  him ! 


Frederick  Barharossa. 


41 


II. 

The  birdlets  sing  in  glee, 

Beholding  now  the  flowers  forth-bud ; 

Their  song  delight  my  mood, 

And  brings  good  cheer  to  me. 

Henceforth  from  care  I’m  free  ! 

God  bless  the  darling,  dear  and  good — 

Across  the  Rhine  lives  she — 

Who  has  stay’d  all  my  sorrow’s  flood,  ' 

Though  far  from  her  lonely  I wander. 

HI. 

What  time  men  genuine  love  pursued. 

They  followed  honor’s  banner. 

But  now  both  day  and  night  men’s  mood 
Shows  but  disgraceful  manner. 

And  who  saw  that  and  now  this  sees, 

Alas,  must  he  not  mourn  at  this. 

That  things  have  grown  so  far  the  worse  and  wanner  ? 

IV. 

He  who  by  love  is  so  much  blessed. 

That  he  love’s  service  may  attain. 

And  he  through  love  by  grief  is  pressed — 

Hail  him,  he  is  a happy  man  ! 

From  love  man  all  that's  good  receives, 

'Tis  love  that  us  a pure  soul  gives  ; 

What  without  love  should  I do  then  ? 

I love  my  dear,  nor  thanks  e’er  claim, 

I well  know  that  her  love  is  pure. 

If  my  love  be  not  free  of  blame, 

Then  never  love  was  true  and  sure. 

My  love  its  thanks  her  fain  would  prove  ; 

My  song  clings  faithful  to  her  love ! 

In  this  belief  rest  ye  secure. 


42 


The  Western, 


THE  FOETUS  FABLE. 


BY  MYRON  B.  BENTON. 


Gay  crowds  who  idly  walk  the  strand 
Turn  mocking  from  the  Giver’s  hand. 

What  treasure  of  the  deep  is  here  ? 

No  wondrous  sea-gift’s  mute  surprise 
He  lifts  to  their  waiting,  eager  eyes ; 

No  strange,  wan  Pearl  from  dim  sea-dreams, 
Thrilled  by  first  touch  of  baffiing  beams. 
“Pond  dreamer  of  the  sea!”  they  sneer; 

“ He  wrestles  with  Death  beneath  the  wave, 
Only  these  childish  baubles  to  save  !” 

A handful  of  pebbles  with  curious  veins, 

And  traced  with  soft  prismatic  stains ; 

Some  whispering  ^olian  shell 
That  repeats  the  Naiad’s  secret  well, 

And  holds  the  touch  of  her  trusting  lip — 
Bloom  that  would  the  rose  enhance — 

On  crimson  coral’s  budding  stem; 

Fetter  on  truant  tress  to  slip 
Of  damsel  at  a village  dance ; 

No  Pearl  for  a queenly  diadem ! 

Unheeding,  the  Diver  murmurs  and  strays 
Vacant  amidst  the  idle  throng  ; 

Seaward  he  turns  his  wistful  gaze  : 

“For  the  breathless  plunge  I ever  long — 

The  downward  flight  through  emerald  waves  ! 
Far  up,  the  winds  may  wrestle  and  strain, 

And  sweep  the  remorseless  hurricane  ; 

But  low,  in  the  hush’d  sea’s  charmed  caves. 
The  battle  of  tempest  never  raves. 

The  billows  sleep  from  their  wild  distress ; 
The  tattered  sail  hangs  motionless 
Where  the  wreck  lies  on  the  level  sand ; 

And  there  I walk  the  silent  strand. 

Where  swift  through  vale  and  seaweed  grove 
Resplendent  creatures  of  ocean  rove. 

“And  oftentimes  the  Merman  King 
Beckons  me  to  his  palace  halls, 


The  Western 


New  Series.]  March,  1878.  [Vol.  IV,  No.  2. 


FREDERICK  BARBAROSSA. 

. [continup:d.] 

A main  feature  of  the  German  character  from  earliest 
times  has  been  a tendency  to  rely  upon  individual  exer- 
tion and  power,  rather  than  be  controlled  by  the  will  of 
others.  This  characteristic  may  be  observed  throughout  all 
Teutonic  races.  The  greatness  of  Charlemagne  lies  in  his 
perception  of  the  insufficiency  of  the  des])otic  principle  which 
strives  to  annihilate  all  individind  freedom,  and  of  that  of  the 
absolute  freedom  of  the  single  individual,  which  effects  the 
same  end,  since  it  necessarily  results  in  collision  with  other 
individuals,  and,  hence,  terminates  in  war  and  slavery.  He 
saw  clearly  that  order — and,  hence,  true  freedom,  peace,  and 
progress — can  be  secured  only  by  law  ; and,  as  men  of  Char- 
lemagne’s faith  and  greatness  have  always  believed  that  law 
cannot  be  carried  out,  or  a nation  be  secured  against  out- 
ward attacks,  unless  it  has  one  supreme,  infallible  chief,  they 
have  always  held  that  disobedience  to  the  law,  or  opposi- 
tion to  authority,  must  be  followed  by  immediate  and  ade- 
quate punishment.  This  accounts  for  many  of  the  cruel- 
ties in  the  lives  of  such  men,  even  when  they  are  naturally 
mild-tempered.  Frederick’s  views  were  entirely  of  this 
order ; and  it  is  notable  that  the  three  greatest  and  fiercest 
of  modern  rulers  and  warriors,  Charlemagne,  Frederick 


Vol.  4.  No.  2—9 


120 


The  Western. 


Rarbarossa  (and  his  successor,  Frederick  Hohenstaiiffen 
II.),  and  Napoleon,  have  given  special  attention  to  the 
formation  of  law  codes  and  the  maintenance  of  a strict,  but 
impartial,  judiciary.  Their  defense  of  the  most  atrocioiis 
deeds  is  always,  “ The  law  must  be  upheld.”  Frederick’s 
bent  of  mind,  was,  therefore,  in  a great  degree  opposed  to 
that  of  the  higher  classes  of  his  age — the  nobles,  and  princes, 
and  prelates — who  wanted  no  universal  law  ; and  his  main 
support  lay  in  the  hearts  of  the  people,  who  were  tired  of 
being  subject  to  caprices,  and  wanted  laws ; though  his 
grand,  imperial  presence  and  character  could  not  fail  to  sub- 
due also  a large  number  of  those  nobles  and  prelates,  even 
though  they  claimed  immunities  from  laws,  or  demanded 
al)Solute  government  over  lands  to  which  they  were  not 
entitled,  or  which  were  at  least  subject  to  his  superior  rule. 
Thus,  when,  upon  his  return  from  Italy,  Barbarossa  was 
apprised  that  the  Archbishop  of  Mayence  and  Pfalzgraf  Her- 
man von  Stahllick  had  come  to  an  open  quarrel  about  the 
Bishopric  of  Worms,  warring  upon  each  other  and  destroy- 
ing the  country ; and,  when  he  cited  them  before  ti  Eeichs- 
tng  at  Worms  and  they  began  to  argue  their  cause  upon 
their  respective  clahns  to  that  bishopric,  Frederick  at  once 
stopped  them,  and  said  that  it  was  not  the  validity  of  their 
claims  which  was  in  issue  before  the  court,  but  that  the 
only  question  was  whether  they  had  violated  the  law  of  the 
realm  in  making  war  upon  each  other,  instead  of  bringing 
their  case  before  him  and  his  council.  All  the  princes 
assembled  at  the  Diet  concurred  in  Frederick’s  vicAV  that 
they  had  been  guilty  in  that  respect.  The  punishment 
assessed  upon  them  was  rather  a singular  one — dog-carry- 
ing. All  who  had  supported  them  in  their  warfare,  the 
pfalzgraf  and  the  archbishop  at  their  head,  were  sentenced 
to  carry  a dog  in  their  arms  for  a length  of  five  miles.  The 
archbishop,  however,  was  pardoned  on  account  of  his  age 
and  rank  in  the  church ; but  the  pfalzgraf  felt  so  deeply 
ashamed  that,  when  he  reached  the  end  of  the  journey,  he 


Frederick  Barharossa . 


121 


swooned  away,  and  entered  a cloister,  where  he  soon  after 
•died.  ^ 

Frederick,  having  thus  finally  restored  peace  to  his  Ger- 
man Kingdom,  also  increased  its  territoiy  largely  by  the 
annexation  of  the  Kingdom  of  Burgundy,  through  his  mar- 
riage  with  Beatrice,  the  Burgundian  princess.  His  mar- 
r riage  was  celebrated  with  great  pomp  at  Whitsunday,  1156. 
From  his  first  wife,  Adelheid  Markgrafin  von  Vohburg,  he 
had  been  divorced,  partly  on  account  of  her  reputed  loose 
character,  and  partly  because  she  was  barren. 

On  the  same  Reichstag  he  also  promised  Wladislav  II., 
King  of  Poland,  to  reinstate  him  in  his  kingdom,  which  his 
brother,  Boleslav,  had  compelled  Wladislav  II.  to  abandon. 
Frederick  crossed  the  Oder  with  a large  army  in  August, 
1157,  and  in  a short  time  forced  Boleslav  to  conclude  a 
treaty  whereby  he  agreed  to  reinstate  Wladislav  II.,  who, 
i on. his  l^art,  promised  to  assist  Barbarossa  with  300  soldiers 
I at^hig  next  campaign,  and  to  give  him  a considerable  amount 
money  for  his  expenses.  Denmark  and  Hungary  also 
pleaded  at  the  same  Reichstag  for  the  emperor’s  protec- 
tion, which  he  gave  on  their  pledging  him  allegiance.  So 
great,  indeed,  had  Barbarossa’s  reputation  risen  that,  on 
the  Reichstag  of  Wuerzburg,  in  1157,  there  were  present, 
besides  the  German  princes  and  prelates,  embassadors  from 
Greece,  Italy,  France,  Burgundy,  Denmark,  England,  and 
Spain.  Henry  H.  of  England  sent  him  valuable  presents, 
accompanied  by  a letter  wherein  he  acknowledged  Barba- 
rossa as  a ruler  even  over  England  ; the  Holy  Roman  Em- 
pire, of  which  he  was  chief,  including,  at  least  theoretically, 

_ all  Christendom. 

But  while  affairs  in  Germany  were  thus  being  placed  in 
order  and  systematized,  and  while  Frederick’s  power  and 
fame  were  spreading  over  all  Europe,  Italy,  his  most  cher- 
ished possession,  had  again  fallen  back  into  a state  of  rebel- 
lion against  the  German  emperor.  Most  of  the  cities  of 
Lombardy  refused  to  pay  taxes,  and  each  city  demanded  the 


122 


The  Westemi. 


right  to  make  laws  of  its  own,  instead  of  following  the  laws 
established  by  Frederick  for  all  Lombardy  and  ratified  by 
all  the  citizens  of  that  country.  Milan,  the  most  poAverfiil 
of  these  cities,  led  this  rebellion,  and  at  the  same  time  Avaged 
remorseless  war  upon  all  cities  that  would  not  implicitly 
( obey  her  decrees. 

It  was  not,  therefore,  as  stated  before,  for  a republican 
and  local  form  of  republicanism  that  Lombardy  strove. 
The  Avhole  movement  Avas  started,  indeed,  mainly  by  the 
larger  cities,  Avho  had  conspired  to  subject  to  their  absolute 
taxation  and  jurisdiction  all  smaller  places  in  their  neighbor- 
hood. Milan,  as  has  been  said,  Avas  the  leader  of  this 
rebellion.  Many  of  the  other  Lombardian  cities,  that  had 
purposed  to  remain  true  to  Frederick,  sent  him  deputation- 
after  deputation,  urging  his  immediate  return  to  Lombardy 
for  the  restoration  of  order.  Anxious  as  the  emperor  AA^as 
to  do  this,  he  Avas  unable  to  march  across  the  Alps  until 
July,  1158,  having  first  dispatched  Otto  von  Wittelsbach, 
one  of  his  trustiest  AA^arriors,  and  the  Chancellor  Kainald, 
one  of  his  most  accomplished  counselors,  to  make  prepara- 
tions for  his  reception  in  the  Lombardian  cities,  encourage 
his  adherents,  and  increase  their  number.  This  embassy 
Avas  received  Avith  great  honors  at  Verona  and  the  adjoining 
cities  ; Avent  thence  to  Mantua  and  Cremona,  at  Avhich  latter 
place  the  archbishops  of  Milan  and  Ravenna,  besides  fifteen 
bishops  and  many  deputations  from  other  cities,  had  come  to 
render  homage,  and  finally  took  their  AA^ay  to  Ravenna,  and 
thence,  by  Avay  of  Romini,  to  Ankora.  At  the  latter  place 
they  found  many  Greek  emissaries,  Avhose  real  mission  aa^is 
to  obtain  possession  of  the  main  sea-ports  of  the  eastern 
Italian  coast  for  the  Byzantiaii  Empire,  Avhile  they  pre- 


tended to  be  there  only  to  recruit  solcliers  against  William 


of  Sicily  and  Naples,  Avho  Avas  then  in  Avar  Avith  the  pope.. 
These  men  Avere  all  ordered  to  retire  from  the  place,  and 
advised  to  discontinue  their  practices. 

MeauAvliile,  Frederick’s  army  had  advanced  into  Italy  in 


Frederick  Barbarossa. 


123 


three  divisions,  each  division  having  been  steadily  increased 
on  its  onward  march  upon  Milan,  in  front  of  which  now 
strongly  fortified  city  the  army,  said  to  have  been  composed 
of  15,000  horsemen  and  100,000  footmen,  arrived  about 
August  6,  1158.  Venice,  Brescia,  Cremona,  Vicenza, 
Pavia,  Nevara,  Asti,  Vercelli,  Como,  Reggio,  and  other 
Lombardian  cities  had  largely  contributed  to  this  reinforce- 
ment of  Frederick’s  army.  In  view  of  the  strong  for- 
tifications of  Milan,  Barbarossa  had  determined  to  compel 
the  city  to  surrender  by  cutting  off  all  its  supplies.  In 
this  he  succeeded  completely.  Want  of  money  and  pro- 
visions, and  the  ravages  of  malarious  fevers,  so  weakened 
the  proud  mind  of  the  Milanese  that,  at  the  suggestion  of 
Guido  Blandrate,  an  embassy  was  sent  to  negotiate  with 
Frederick  for  peace.  This  was  concluded  on  September 
3d,  under  the  following  conditions : Milan  to  rebuild 
the  cities  of  Lodi  and  Como,  which,  in  its  feuds,  it  had 
completely  destroyed,  and  those  cities  to  remain  independ- 
ent; all  citizens  of  Milan  to  swear  allegiance  to  Frederick, 
and  the  city  to  pay  9,000  marks  of  silver  to  the  emperor, 
the  empress,  and  the  nobles  ; Milan  then  to  be  no  longer 
under  ban,  but  to  pay  taxes  like  all  other  cities,  and  to 
abolish  all  claims  inherent  in  the  emperor’s  sovereignty, 
such  as  coining  money,  levying  taxes,  etc.  ; and,  these 
matters  having  been  arranged,  the  city  to  be  relieved 
from  the  imperial  troops.  After  this  treaty  had  been 
ratified,  Frederick  removed  his  troops  outside  of  the 
city,  and  had  them  drawn  up  in  two  lines,  through  which 
the  Milanese  were  ordered  to  pass  and  swear  allegiance 
to  Frederick,  whose  throne  was  erected  in  the  center 
of  the  lines.  The  Archbishop  Obertus,  the  clergy,  and 
the  monks — carrying  crosses,  censers,  and  other  churchly 
vessels — were  the  first  to  pass,  and  each  one  knelt  before  the 
emperor’s  throne.  Obertus  of  Pirovana,  the  chief  of  the 
archbishops,  ventured  to  ask  pity  for  Milan.  Frederick 
lifted  him  up,  kissed  him,  and  had  him  seated.  Then  came 


124 


The  Western. 


twelve  burgomasters,  the  council  of  the  city,  and  the  nobles^ 
all  barefooted  and  wearing  their  unsheathed  swords  around 
their  necks,  and,  finally,  all  the  citizens  of  Milan,  with  ropes - 
around  their  necks,  pale,  and  in  great  distress.  All  knelt 
at  the  emperor’s  throne.  When  this  ceremony  had  been 
ended,  the  Obertus  ab  Orto,  the  burgomaster  of  Milan,  arose 
and  thus  addressed  the  emperor : “We  have  sinned;  we 
have  done  wrong ; we  entreat  your  pardon ; we  place  our 
swords  at  your  feet,  and  our  lives  in  your  hands.” 

Frederick  replied  coldly  : “I  am  glad  that  the  Milanese 
have  at  last  preferred  peace  to  war,  and  have  not  made  it 
necessary  that  I should  do  them  evil.  How  much  misfor- 
tune would  have  been  averted,  and  how  much  good  could 
have  been  accomplished,  if  the  citizens  of  Milan  had  taken 
this  view  at  the  start ! I would  rather  rule  over  obedient 
subjects  than  over  slaves ; I would  reward  rather  than 
punish,”  etc. 

After  the  subjugation  of  Milan,  Frederick  moved  to  the 
Roncalian  fields,  where  he  erected  his  camp  with  a splendor 
hitherto  unknown.  The  magnificent  pavilion  of  the  emperor 
towered  high,  and  was  surrounded  by  the  little  less  gorgeous 
tents  of  the  other  princes, ‘according  to  their  respective  rank. 
From  this  center  straight  streets  ran  in  all  directions  ; and, 
the  camp  having  been  so  placed  as  to  be  divided  by  the 
River  Po,  a bridge  was  erected  across  the  stream,  making 
the  whole  encampment  appear  like  a new  city  built  on  two 
sides  of  a river.  Italians  occupied  the  one  side,  Germans 
the  other.  Here  the  emperor  caused  the  four  most  re- 
nowned lawyers  of  that  time,  Bulgarins,  Josias,  Jacobus 
Hugolinus,  and  Hugo  de  Porta  Ravennate,  to  revise,  collect, 
and  correct  all  the  laws  of  the  various  cities  of  Lombardy 
into  one  common  statute-book.  “And  when  these  laws,” 
said  Frederick,  “ shall  once  have  been  given,  there  shall  be 
no  further  talk  about  the  law,  but  only  judgment  rendered 
according  to  the  law.” 

The  Lombards  did  not  entirely  approve  these  new  laws,. 


Frederick  Barba  rossa . 


125 


I 


1 


Avliich  fixed  all  legal  matters  on  a fixed  basis  ; whereas,  before, 
the  laws  had  been  so  irregular  and  disordered  that  each 
party  to  a cause  took  the  law  in  his  own  hand,  and  sought  to 
gain  by  violence  what  the  law  kept  in  a state  of  perpetual 
uncertainty.  Nevertheless,  things  passed  off  pretty  quietly  ; 
even  the  Genoese — strongl}^  on  the  Ghibelline  side — made  a 
special  compact  with  Frederick,  stipulating  exemption  from 
taxes,  but  pronouncing  themselves  ready  to  take  the  oath  of 
allegiance.  If  Frederick  had  not  sent  his  army  home  imme- 
diately after  the  subjugation  of  Milan,  his  terms  with  Genoa 
and  Venice  would  unquestionably  have  been  far  more  severe  ; 
as  it  was,  he  made  as  fair  terms  as  he  could  with  both  cities. 

/But  this  enforced  peace  did  not  last  long ; and,  while  Milan 
prepared  for  a new  struggle,  the  pope,  Adrian  IV.,  became 
more  and  more  unfriendly  to  Frederick — mainly  because  of 
the  constantly  growing  power  of  the  German  emperor,  but 
partly,  also,  on  account  of  the  Countess  Matilda’s  possessions, 
which,  by  a previous  agreement,  had  been  assigned  to  Welf 
VI.,  an  uncle  of  Frederick’s,  who,  however,  leaving  others 
— amongst  them  the  pope  himself — to  take  possession  of  the 
greater  part  of  Matilda’s  vast  estates  and  valuables,  had 
taken  for  himself  only  a small  portion.  Thus  there  had 
arisen  a series  of  complicated  disputes  regarding  the  title  to 
Matilda’s  possessions,  and  Frederick,  in  revising  the  Lom- 
bardian laws,  was  called  to  pass  upon  that  title.  He 
decided  that  his  uncle,  Welf  VI.,  the  brother  of  Matilda’s 
husband,  was  lawfully  entitled  to  all  of  her  estate.  This 
had  caused  great  ire  on  the  part  of  the  pope,  and  led  to  a 
very  angry  correspondence ; the  pope  at  the  same  time  stir- 
ring up  the  cities  of  northern  Italy  to  another  revolt  against 
the  Hohenstauffen  rule. 

To  illustrate  how  far  this  animosity  between  the  emperor 
and  the  pope  had  grown  at  this  time,  let  me  quote  the  fol- 
lowing correspondence  between  Adrian  and  Frederick. 
Adrian,  in  writing  to  Frederick  Barbarossa,  says  : 

“ The  Holy  Bible  promises  to  every  one  who  honors  his 


126 


The  Western. 


father  and  mother  long  life  upon  earth,  and  threatens  with 
destruction  every  one  who  shall  disobey  this  command.  It 
says,  further  : ‘ He  who  puts  himself  on  high  shall  be  low- 
ered.’ Hence,  dearest  son  of  the  Lord,  we  are  astonished 
that  thou  dost  not  show  us  the  proper  reverence,  and  dost 
not  keep  thy  sworn  pledges  ; that,  in  thy  waitings  addressed 
to  us,  thou  placest  thy  name  before  our  own  ; that  thou  re- 
quirest  fealty  only  from  those  who,  after  all,  are  only  chil- 
dren— that  is,  from  bishops — and  takest  their  sanctified 
hands  in  thy  own,  whilst  thou  lockest  the  doors  of  thy 
churches  in  their  face,  and  even  refusest  them  admit- 
tance into  thy  cities.  Awake,  therefore  ; awake,  lest,  in 
venturing  after  what  belongs  to  another,  thou  losest  thy 
own.” 

To  which  Barbarossa  replied  : “ Frederick,  by  the  grace 
of  God  Emperor  and  Augustus  of  the  Eomans,  desires  the 
pontifex  of  the  Romish  Church  to  attend  only  to  that  which 
Christ  has  begun  to  do  and  teach.  The  law  of  justice  allows 
to  each  one  his  own,  and  we  are  determined  not  to  cede  any 
of  the  rights  which  have  been  transmitted  to  us  by  our  ven- 
erable ancestors.  What  temporal  power  had  the  Church  at 
the  time  of  Constantine?  Only  through  Constantine’s  mild- 
ness did  the  Church  obtain  peace  and  freedom,  and  whatsoever 
the  popes  may  now  possess  they  hold  only  as  presents  from 
the  kings  and  princes.  If,  in  our  letter  to  you,  we  place 
our  name  before  your  name,  and  allow  you  to  do  the  same 
in  your  letters,  we  do  nothing  out  of  the  way,  as  you  ought 
to  have  known  from  the  study  of  ancient  writings.  When 
your  bishops  protest  that  they  are  only  God’s  children,  and 
yet  take  from  us  our  royal  rights  ; when  they  refuse  to 
acknowledge  lien’s  rights  and  lien’s  oath,  we  are  unable  to 
find  any  reason  for  this  course  of  action,  expressly  since 
your  and  our  Great  Teacher  (who  received  nothing  from 
kings,  but  generously  gave  away  all  He  had)  voluntarily 
paid  taxes  to  the  emperor  for  Himself  and  Petrus.  Thereby 
He  set  you  an  example  which  3^011  should  follow,  and  a doc- 


Frederick  Barharossa. 


127 


trine  which  you  ought  to  take  to  heart : ‘ Be  ye  taught  by 

me,  for  I am  gentle-hearted,  and  humble  of  heart.’  Hence, 
let  those  men  either  renounce  all  possessions  and  incomes,  or, 
if  they  find  it  so  better,  let  them  give  to  God  all  that  belongs 
to  God,  and  unto  Caesar  all  that  is  Caesar’s.  We  closed  our 
churches  and  cities  against  your  cardinals  because  we  found 
that  they  were  not  preachers,  but  robbers  ; not  friends  of 
peace,  but  spoliators  of  coins  ; not  men  who  improve  the  lands 
under  their  hands,  but  insatiable  collectors  of  gold.  When- 
ever Koine  shall  send  us  embassadors  of  the  kind  which  the 
Church  needs,  who  will  bring  peace,  enlighten  the  people, 
and  kindly  assist  the  afflicted,  we  shall  support  her  in  every 
manner.  * * * this  we  were  compelled  to  write  to 

you,  since  we  saw"  that  arrogance,  this  abominable  beast, 
had  crept  up  even  into  the  chair  of  St.  Peter.  Attend, 
therefore,  in  the  right  manner  to  the  peace  of  the  Church, 
and  all  will  be  w^ell  wuth  you.” 

Frederick  had  thus  scarcely  put  order  into  the  affairs  of 
Lombardy  when  he  found  himself  almost  at  wuir  again,  and 
foresaw  the  necessity  of  quenching  all  such  uprisings  against 
the  imperial  rule  for  the  future  by  one  special  and  terrible 
example,  and  for  that  purpose  chose  Milan,  as  the  center  of 
all  insubordination  against  imperial  rule  ; and  Milan  soon 
gave  him  an  opportunity  to  carry  out  his  plan. 

Learning  this,  Adrian,  to  increase  the  strength  of  his 
party,  sent  circulars  to  the  Lombardians  encouraging  them 
in  their  resistance  to  Frederick,  made  a treaty  wdth  William 
of  Sicily  whereby  the  hitter  agreed  to  support  the  pope,  and 
sent  letters  to  several  archbishops  in  Germany  urging  them 
to  stir  up  revolts  against  the  emperor  at  home.  The  Ger- 
man prelates,  however,  kept  true  to  Frederick. 

As  the  opposition  of  the  Lombardians  to  the  new  system 
•of  taxation — accepted  solemnly  by  them  on  the  Roncalian 
fields — increased  under  papal  and  Milanese  provocations, 
Frederick  found  it  necessary  to  order  new  troops  from  Gdr- 


128 


The  Western. 


many  to  fortify  Lodi  and  Como — ^the  cities  which  had  suf- 
fered more  than  all  the  others  from  Milan — and  renew  his 
friendship  with  all  cities  that  were  favorably  inclined  toward 
him.  Having  achieved  this  purpose,  he  sent  his  two  faith- 
ful embassadors,  Pfalzgraf  Otto  and  Chancellor  Kainald,  to 
Milan  to  demand  of  that  city  why  it  had  elected  consuls,  or 
podesta  (mayors),  without  the  prior  nomination  of  those 
officials  by  the  emperor.  The  Milanese  replied  that  the 
treaty  of  August,  1158,  between  the  emperor  and  Milan, 
allowed  the  Milanese  the  right  to  elect  their  own  mayors,  and 
that  the  emperor  had  merely  power  to  confirm  their  nomi- 
nations. The  German  embassadors  replied  that  the  later 
code,  accepted  by  the  Milanese  themselves,  had  changed  the 
former  treaty  in  that  respect  completely.  After  several 
attempts  to  come  to  an  understanding,  it  became  evident 
that  it  was  impossible  to  arrive  at  an  agreement.  The  Ger- 
man embassadors  thereupon  retired  to  their  place  of  resi- 
dence, but  not  before  the  object  and  end  of  the  conference 
had  become  known  to  the  people  of  the  city,  who  imme- 
diately formed  themselves  into  a mob,  and,  following  the 
embassadors  with  the  cry  of  “ Death  ! ” “ Death  ! ” began 
throwing  stones  through  the  windows  of  their  dwelling  and 
trying  to  force  the  doors.  It  was  only  due  to  the  arrival  of 
the  consuls  in  the  nick  of  time  that  the  mob  was  finally  dis- 
persed. The  consuls  appeared  sincerely  distressed,  and 
implored  the  embassadors  to  pardon  this  violent  outbreak 
of  the  people,  remain  with  them  until  some  agreement  could 
be  made,  and,  above  all,  not  to  bring  the  matter  up  before 
the  emperor.  But  the  embassadors  concluded  not  to  trust 
to  the  Milanese,  and,  having  made  their  escape  in  the  night, 
rode  off  to  inform  the  emperor  of  their  adventure.  F rederick 
was  violently  excited.  “ Milan,”  said  he,  “ has  trod  into 
the  mud  the  very  sacredness  of  embassadors,  which  even 
barbarians  respect.  Their  repentance  has  changed  into  stub- 
bornness ; their  obedience  into  rebellion.  Such  outrage  can 


Frederick  Barharossa . 


129 


originate  only  in  the  wickedness  of  many,  and  punishment 
must,  therefore,  be  levied  also  upon  many,  and  with  sever- 
ity, according  to  the  law.” 

Without  proceeding  to  extremities  at  once,  however, 
Frederick  awaited  new  reinforcements  from  Germany.  The 
citizens  of  Milan,  also,  did  in  no  way  diminish  their  labors  in 
constructing  new  defenses,  and  even  making  arrangements 
for  attacking  the  expected  besiegers  ; for  they  knew  their  lot 
beforehand.  Frederick  had  announced,  after  consulting  the 
best  Milanese  jurists,  that  the  city  of  Milan  should  be  put  un- 
der ban,  owing  to  the  non-appearance  of  their  officials  before 
the  emperor,  after  several  summons  ; their  goods  and  valu- 
ables should  be  open  to  plunder,  their  persons  subjected  to 
servitude,  and  the  city  to  destruction.  The  Milanese,  how- 
ever, did  not  await  the  issue  of  this  manifesto,  but,  on  April 
16,  1159,  moved  with  a considerable  force  upon  Trenzo,  one 
of  Frederick’s  cities.  The  news  reached  the  emperor  at 
Bologna,  whilst  celebrating  the  festival  of  Easter.  Imme- 
diately Frederick  advanced  with  his  army  in  support  of 
Trenzo,  but  came  too  late,  as  the  city  had  already  surren- 
dered. Frederick  then  returned  to  Bologna,  having  first 
destroyed  all  the  crops,  vineyards,  and  trees  around  Milan, 
and  cutoff,  so  far  as  possible,  the  city’s  means  of  communi- 
cation, thus  placing  it  again  in  a state  of  starvation.  While 
this  caused  great  depression  amongst  some  of  the  citizens 
of  Milan,  in  others  it  awoke  new  heroism  and  patriotic  reso- 
lution to  defend  the  city  to  the  last.  To  such  a degree  of 
desperation  did  these  feelings  impel  the  Milanese,  that  even 
attempts  to  assassinate  the  emperor  were  made.  Mean- 
while, Frederick’s  army  continued  to  increase  and,  whilst 
keeping  Milan  well  covered,  he  advanced  with  a portion  of 
his  troops  upon  Crema,  which  had  been  almost  as  bitterly 
opposed  to  the  imperial  rule  as  Milan,  and  had  caused  equal 
devastation  amongst  other  anti-Milan  cities.  After  a seven- 
months’  siege,  Crema  was  obliged  to  surrender  on  January  27, 
1160.  The  citizens,  20,000  in  number,  were  permitted  to 


130 


The  Western. 


leave,  and  bring  along  as  much  baggage  as  they  could  carry. 
The  troops  of  succor  sent  by  Milan  and  Brescia  to  Crema 
had  to  leave  without  arms  or  bao;<ya£:e.  The  remainino^  arms 
and  other  means  of  warfare  were  sent  to  the  citizens  of 
Lodi  and  Cremona — cities  true  to  Frederick  and  bitterly  hos- 
tile to  Milan,  Crema,  and  Brescia.  The  city  Crema  itself 
was  then  abandoned  to  the  soldiers  for  plunder  ; and,  as  v^ery 
little  of  value  had  been  left,  the  enraged  soldiers  set  lire  to 
the  place.  The  emperor  then  entered  the  city  of  Pavia,  and 
wrote  home  about  the  great  triumph  achieved  by  the  de- 
struction of  Crema,  and  the  great  humanity  exhibited  by 
him  in  sparing  the  lives  of  all  inhabitants. 

It  was  now  Milan’s  turn,  but  a new  event  compelled 
Frederick  to  wait  still  longer  before  proceeding  to  act. 
During  the  siege  of  Crema,  Pope  Adrian  had  died,  Septem- 
ber 1,  1159,  and  the  college  of  cardinals  was  divided  into 
two  parties,  the  one  party  fiworing  Boland  Bandilini,  after- 
wards called  Alexander  III.,  and  the  other  party  supporting 
the  Cardinal  Octavion,  who  took  the  name  of  Victor  IV. 
Each  pope  claimed  to  be  properly  elected.  IVhen  the 
<Mnperor  heard  of  this  disastrous  schism  amongst  the  cardi- 
nals, and  its  result,  he,  as  the  head  of  the  Holj^  Boman 
Empire,  invited  all  the  prelates  of  his  own  and  all  other 
Christian  empires  to  meet  in  convention  at  Pavia,  “ for,  as 
there  should  be  only  one  emperor  in  the  Christian  world,  so 
ought  there  also  to  be  only  one  pope.”  Alexander  III. 
declined  this  invitation,  claiming  the  supreme  control  on  the 
part  of  the  pope  over  all  temporal  and  spiritual  affairs,  and 
A'indicating  the  validity  of  his  own  election.  Victor,  how- 
ever, who  felt  sure  of  Frederick’s  support,  acceded  to  the 
proposal  of  the  emperor.  The  convention  was  opened  on 
February  5,  1160,  and  opened  by  the  emperor  in  person, 
who,  after  stating  that  although  his  predecessors,  Karl  the 
Great  and  Otto  the  Great,  had  presided  at  similar  conven- 
tions of  the  Church,  said  he  did  not  feel  inclined  to  interfere 
in  the  present  convention,  and  would  ratheiTeave  the  church- 


Frederick  Barharossa . 


131 


men  to  settle  the  matter  amongst  themselves.  He  there- 
upon retired,  and  with  him  retired  all  laymen.  After  a seven- 
days’  session,  the  convention — composed  of  about  fifty  or 
sixty  bishops,  and  many  abbots — declared  Victor  the  law- 
fully elected  pope.  Frederick,  the  princes,  and  the  peo- 
ple indorsed  the  declaration  of  the  convention,  and,  on 
February  11th,  Victor  was  taken  from  his  cloister,  clothed 
ill  papal  robes  and  mounted,  the  emperor  himself  holdiiur 
the  bridle  and  the  stirrups,  and  led  to  the  church,  where 

(solemn  mass  was  held.  Victor,  immediately  upon  his  in- 
stallation, put  his  opponent,  Alexander  III.,  under  the  bnn, 
and  Alexander  III.,  on  his  part,  not  to  be  behindhand, 
excommunicated  both  Frederick  and  Victor.  Milan,  therc- 
* upon,  naturally  took  the  part  of  Alexander.  Under  these 
circumstances  Frederick  sent  the  larger  part  of  his  forces 
home  again — their  time  of  service  having  already  long 
expired — and  ordered  them  to  return  next  year,  with  as 
many  new- recruits  as  possible.  With  the  remaining  troo})s 
he  camped  during  the  winter,  closing  more  and  more  upon 
Milan,  but  engaging  in  only  a few  skirmishes.  In  the 
spring  of  1161  new  reinforcements  arrived  from  Germany, 
and,  in  August,  Milan  was  for  the  second  time  regularly 
besieged  by  Barbarossa.  By  the  end  of  that  year,  1161, 
the  want  of  food  had  already  reached  such  extremities  that 
a great  part  of  the  citizens  favored  immediate  surrender  of 
the  city  on  the  best  possible  terms.  Only  the  clergy, 
under  the  influence  of  Pope  Alexander,  advised  prolonged 
resistance.  Finally,  the  state  of  afiairs  in  Milan  became  so 
untenable  that  a deputation  was  sent  to  Frederick  to  negoti- 
. ate  with  him  for  the  city  on  the  following  terms  : 

The  citizens  of  Milan  agreed  to  destroy  all  their  fortifica- 
tions, and  not  to  rebuild  them  without  the  emperor’s  con- 
sent ; to  repair  the  castle  and  palace  at  their  own  expense  ; 
to  reverence  all  alliances  ; to  quarter  the  imperial  army  in 
the  city ; to  deliver  to  him  300  of  their  prominent  citizens 
as  hostages  for  their  good  behavior ; to  allow  the  emperor 


132 


The  Western. 


to  nominate  their  officials,  and  to  pay  him  a large  sum  of 
money. 

That  these  enormous  concessions  would  be  received  with- 
out further  parley  by  the  emperor  Avas  never  doubted  ; 
and  yet,  when  they  were  laid  before  the  imperial  council,  a 
division  of  opinion  became  at  once  apparent.  Some  coun- 
seled their  acceptance,  so  as  not  to  increase  dissatisfaction 
by  measures  too  severe  ; Avhile  others,  and  especiall}"  the 
<leputies  of  those  Lombardian  cities  who  had  most  cruelly 
suffered  from  the  despotism  of  Milan,  declared  that  the  unlim- 
ited insults  Avhich  the  majesty  of  the  Holy  Koman  Empire 
had  suffered  so  long  from  this  one  city  could  be  expiated 
only  by  unlimited  submission.  Frederick  also  favored  this 
view,  and  the  Milanese  Avere  compelled  to  submit  uncondi- 
tionally. 

On  March  1,  1162,  the  highest  city  official  of  Milan,  and 
scverivT  nobles,  appeared  at  the  imperial  camp,  and,  kneeling 
l)efore  the  emperor  and  the  assembled  princes,  agreed  to 
submit  themselves  unconditionally  to  the  emperor’s  author- 
ity, and  promised  that  all  the  citizens  of  Milan  should  do  the 
same.  On  the  4th,  therefore,  300  select  men  of  the  city 
appeared  before  the  emperor,  and  resigned  submissh^ely  the 
keys  of  all  their  toAvers  and  castles,  and  thirty-six  of  the 
main  flags  of  the  city ; Avhereupon  they  also  took  the 
oath  of  allegiance.  On  March  6th,  hnally,  the  Avhole 
body  of  citizens — cords  around  their  necks,  ashes  on  their 
heads,  and  crucifixes  in  their  hands — passed  through  the 
gates  of  Milan.  The  procession  Avas  closed  b}^  an  immense 
Avagon,  strongly  fortihed  b}^  iron,  from  Avhose  center  arose 
a high  mast-tree,  fastened  strongl}^  Avith  iron  rings,  ribbons, 
strings,  etc.  On  the  top  of  the  mast  appeared  a crucifix, 
and  St.  Ambrosius  in  the  attitude  of  benediction.  Fred- 
erick Avas  at  dinner  Avhen  the  procession  arrived,  but  did 
not  rise  from  the  table  until  the  dinner  Avas  finished,  leaAung 
the  Milanese  to  Avait  for  him  in  the  midst  of  a heaA^y  rain. 

Finally  he  ascended  a throne,  surrounded  b}^  the  chief  of 
his  princes  and  nobles.  Once  more  the  Milanese  flag- 


Frederick  Barharossa. 


133 


l)earers  waved  their  flags  and  sounded  their  trumpets,  and 
then  the  procession  passed  on,  each  division  laying  down  its 
flags  and  trumpets  at  the  emperor’s  feet.  At  last  came  the 
grand  wagon  with  its  towering  mast — the  Oarrocio^  the  chief 
war  emblem  of  Milan.  Slowly  the  mast  was  loAvered,  the 
wagon  split  into  pieces,  and  proud  Milan’s  glory  seemed 
gone  forever.  Amidst  the  tears  and  lamentations  of  the 
Milanese  the  Count  of  Blandrate  advanced  to  implore  the 
mercy  of  the  emperor  for  the  city  and  its  inhabitants.  The 
eyes  of  most  of  the  princes  were  tearful  at  beholding  this 
humiliation  of  proud  Milan  ; only  the  emperor  and  his  chan- 
cellor, Kainald,  remained  unmoved.  At  last  Frederick 
arose,  and,  addressing  the  Milanese,  said : 

“That  mildness  which  is  consonant  with  justice  you 
shall  have.  According  to  law,  each  one  of  you  has  forfeited 
his  life.  I will  grant  life  to  you  all,  and  take  only  such 
measures  as  shall  make  it  impossible  for  you  hereafter  to 
commit  similar  crimes.” 

Unable  to  imagine  what  those  other  measures  might  be, 
the  citizens  of  Milan  returned  in  great  tribulation  to  their 
homes,  Avhile  Frederick  himself  went  onward  to  Fa^ja.  there 
to  determine  in  open  convention  the  fliial  fate  of  Milan, 
'fhe  most  prominent  men  of  Lombardy,  most  of  the  bishops, 
and  the  chief  officials  of  many  Lombardian  cities  were 
assembled.  The  latter  were  in  favor  of  the  most  severe 
measures.  “ The  cup  of  misery,”  said  they,  “ which  Milan 
has  prepared  for  so  many  other  cities  should  now  be  pre- 
pared for  herself.  Milan  has  destroyed  Como  and  Lodi, 
and  other  imperial  cities ; let  Milan,  therefore,  also  be 
destroyed.” 

The  sentence  which  Avas  finally  adopted,  and  read  in 
presence  of  the  chief  officials  of  Milan,  was  as  follows  : 

“Milan  to  be  laid  Avaste  ; all  the  inhabitants  to  leave  it 
Avithin  eight  days,  and  to  take  up  their  homes  in  four  differ- 
eut  places,  each  of  AAffiich  is  to  be  ten  miles  from  the  other.” 


134 


The  Western u 


This  blow  crushed  the  hopes  of  even  the  most  stub- 
l)orii  uud  hopeful ; those  Avho  had  friends  or  relatives  in 
other  places  emigrated,  and  the  utterly  helpless  hid  them- 
selves in  cloisters,  churches,  and  low  huts. 

It  was  on  the  26th  of  March  that  the  emperor  for  the 
second  time  entered  Milan  with  his  whole  army  ; this  time, 
however,  not  through  the  magnificent-  gates  of  the  city,  but 
through  a breach  made  in  its  walls,  and  witnessing  that  woe- 
ful scene  so  graphically  sketched  in  the  little  ballad  quoted 
before.  His  mission  in  northern  Italy,  on  which  he  had 
wasted  now  over  seven  years,  seemed  fulfilled  ; all  the  other 
rebellious  cities,  such  as  Brescia,  Piacenza,  Imola,  Faenza, 
Bologna,  and  others,  having  submitted  to  his  terms  immedi- 
ately after  the  destruction  of  Milan. 

I In  the  fall  of  1162  Frederick,  after  so  many  years’  absence 
from  his  German  Empire,  was  recalled  to  put  an  end  to  new 
disturbances  that  had  broken  out  with  his  quarrelsome  sub- 
jects. The  main  trouble  had  occurred  at  Mayence,  where  the 
citizens  in  a mob-riot  had  murdered  the  archbishop,  Arnold 
( 1160),  whose  many  friends  now  called  loudly  for  vengeance, 
and  punishment  of  the  leaders  of  the  revolt.  Frederick 
called  a Meichstag,  or  Council,  together  at  Mayence,  in  the 
spring  of  1163,  had  the  matter  thoroughly  investigated, 
and  the  instigators  severely  punished.  The  city  itself  was 
made  to  suffer  by  having  it^  walls  pulled  down.  Shortly 
afterwards,  in  the  fall  of  1163,  Frederick  Avas  again  sum- 
moned to  Italy,  leaving  his  German  princes  and  prelates 
again  to  indulge  in  their  interminable  bickerings  and 
quarrels. 

This,  his  third  journey  to  Italy,  the  emperor  made  Avith- 
out  an  army,  hoping  to  achieve  a peaceable  reconciliation 
between  the  Lombards  themselves,  as  Avell  as  betAveen  him- 
self and  the  hostile  cities  of  Lombardy.  For,  immediately 
after  the  destruction  of  iMilan  and  the  departure  of  Frederick 
for  Germany,  these  hostile  cities  had  once  more  risen  in 


Frederich  Barharossa. 


135 


revolt  against  their  German  rulers.  Nor  did  they  do  so 
without  cause,  for  the  German  tax-assessors  and  collectors 
were  as  rapacious  a set  of  office-holders  as  ever  collected 
revenue — and  revenue-collectors  are  not  popular  people  at 
the  best.  Besides,  German  arrogance  was  as  distasteful  to 
the  Italians  of  that  day  as  Austrian  superciliousness  was  to 
the  people  of  Venice  and  Lombardy  before  the  days  of  Sol- 
ferino.  It  rankled  in  their  minds,  moreover,  that  the  Ger- 
mans should  rob  them  of  their  art-treasures  and  saint-relics, 
as  they  certainly  did,  setting  thereby  a bad  example  to  future 
leaders  of  conquering  armies,  which  Napoleon  I.,  amongst 
others,  did  not  fail  to  folloAV.  There  was  a great  outcry, 
for  instance,  Avhen  Frederick’s  chancellor,  Kainald,  the 
emperor’s  Avisest  counselor,  but  a man  also  of  consideral)le 
unscrupulousness,  AAdio  had  l)een  left  in  charge  of  the, 
administration  of  affairs  in  northern  Italy,  took  ruthless 
hold  of  the  bodies  of  the  three  Avise  •men  from  the  East, 
that  Avere  the  boast  of  the  Milan  cathedral,  and  had  them 
j,  transported  to  Cologne,  to  join  the  l)odies  of  the  11,000 
or  more  mythical  virgins  also  interred  in  that  famous  city 
on  the  Bhine. 

The  first  step  Avhich  Frederick  took  on  his  arrival  in  Italy 
Avas  to  issue  a proclamation  calling  together  a convention  of 
delegates  from  all  parts  of  Lombardy,  at  Avhich  their 
(quarrels  and  complaints  Avere  to  be  examined  and  adjudi- 
cated. But  this  convention  proved  a lamentable  failure. 
Each  city  had  a special  grievance,  and  nourished  unappeas- 
able envy  against  its  rival.  Frederick  could  not,  therefore, 
please  any  of  them  ; he  did  either  too  much  or  too  little. 

While  the  emperor  Avas  placed  in  this  disagreeable 
position,  the  hostile  cities  of  Lombardy  felt  themselves 
encouraged  by  the  additional  strength  that  gathered  around 
Pope  Alexander  in  his  French  exile.  This  indomital)le 
priest  had  called  a general  church  assembly  to  meet  at 
Tours,  in  May,  1163,  Avhere  all  the  clergy  of  Great  Britain, 

Vol.  4,  No.  2—10. 


The  Western. 


Krancfi.,_iuid  Spain  rallied,  pledgeiniiiii.-tli^.i;i^^  and 
indorsed  the  excoinmnnication  of  Emperor  Frederick  and 
Pope  Victor.  Even  the  kings  of  France  and  England  met 
him  at  Toney  and  held  his  stirrups — the  news  of  which  gave 
Frederick  great  annoyance.  Nor  did  the  death  of  Pope 
Victor,  April  20,  1164,  improve  Frederick's  position.  It 
s(Hmis  quite  probable  that  he  was  personally  inclined  to 
take  advantage  of  this  opportunity  to  effect  a reconciliation 
with  Alexander,  but  Rainald  had  hastily — two  days  after 
Victor’s  death — in  conjunction  with  sonic  cardinals,  elected 
(jiiido  of  Cremo  as  the  legitimate  successor  of  Victor, 
under  the  name  of  Paschal  III.,  and  Frederick  did  not  think 
it  proper  to  disown  Rainald ’ s act.  This  still  further  enraged 
the  Lombardian  cities.  Even  Venice,  which  had  taken  the 
part  of  the  emperor  against  Milan,  now  arose  against  him — 
partly  instigated  thereto  by  the  Emperor  Emanuel  of 
(ireece,  who  had  some  hopes  of  securing  a foothold  in 
northern  Italy,  and  of  ultimately  uniting  Italy  and  Greece 
under  one  rule — and  concluded  an  alliance  with  Verona, 
Padua,  Vincenza,  and  Treviso.^  Frederick  hurried  to 
Verona  in  order  to  break  up  this  new  combination,  but,  find- 
ing that  he  had  not  troops  enough,  made  overtures  of  friend- 
ship to  Venice’s  rival,  Genoa,  and  in  the  fall  of  1164  hur- 
riedly returned  to  Germany  to  raise  an  army  and  subdue 
this  new  and  unexpected  outbreak. 

But  in  Germany  he  was  detained  longer  than  he  had 
expected.  Feuds  had  to  be  checked,  disputes  settled,  and 
o[)en  revolts  quenched  and  punished.  The  emperor  called 
a Reichstag,  to  meet  at  Wuerzburg,  in  the  summer  of  1165. 

' Note. — It  may  be  worth  while  to  call  the  attention  of  the  modern  reader 
to  the  geographical  features  which  unite  Greece  to  Turkey,  and  make  Austria 
and  Italy  an  ally  of  that  Union.  Nay,  it  may  be  even  excusable,  in  a desultory 
historical  sketch  like  this,  to  point  out  that  the  mission  of  Great  Britain  lies 
not  as  it  did  in  the  time  of  Napoleon  L,  who  did  ?iot  believe  in  railroads  in 
the  way  of  Malta,  the  Dardanelles,  and  East  India,  but  in  the  way  of  Egypt 
and  Africa. 


Frederick  Barharossa. 


137 


At  this  solemnity  there  appeared,  to  Frederick’s  great 
'delight,  embassadors  from  King  Henry  II.  of  England,  who 
had  become  disgusted  with  Pope  Alexander’s  conduct  in  his 
quarrel  with  Thomas  a Becket,  Archbishop  of  Canterbuiy, 
and  who  now  heartily  regretted  having  held  the  proud 
pope’s  stirrups  at  Toney.  Frederick  succeeded  in  tempo- 
rarily gaining  Henry  over  to  the  cause  of  Pope  Paschal  ; 
and,  to  secure  his  alliance  still  more  firmly,  arranged  a mar- 
riage between  two  of  Henry’s  daughters  and  the  Welfish 
Henry  the  Lion  and  one  of  his  own  sons.  Having  a little 
spare  time  on  hand  at  the  end  of  the  year,  while  his  princes 
were  collecting  their  forces  for  the  next  year’s  march  on 
Jtalyy^  Frederick  devoted  it  to  having  his  great  prototype, 
Charlemagne,  admitted  amongst  the  saints.  This  was  done 
at  Aachen,  December  29th,  by  Pope  Paschal,  with  great  and 
impressive  ceremonies,  and,  although  Alexander  did  not 
think  Karl  the  Great  a specially  fit  companion  for  the  com- 
pany of  saints,  he,  as  well  as  the  subsequent  popes,  felt  it 
incumbent  upon  them  to  recognize  Paschal’s  act. 

While  Frederick  was  preparing  for  his  fourth  expedition 
to  Italy,  Alexander  had  quietly  forestalled  his  imperial 
enemy  by  leaving  his  French  letreat,  in  August,  1165,  for 
Koine.  Being  pursued  by  some  Pisa  ships,  who  had  heard 
of  his  departure  from  Montpellier,  the  pope  was  compelled 
to  change  his  course  and  steer  for  Sicil}^  Here  he  arrived 
safely  at  Messina,  and  met  with  a cordial  reception  from 
King  William,  who  placed  a war  vessel  at  his  disposal,  and 
had  him  conveyed  to  the  mouth  of  the  Tiber.  When  this 
became  known  at  Kome,  the  whole  city  turned  out  to  meet 
him,  and  on  November  23d  he  was  safely  housed  in  the 
Lateral!  palace. 

It  was  not  till  one  year  later,  in  November,  1166,  that 
the  emperor,  for  the  fourth  time,  arrived  in  Italy.  He 
stopped  at  Lodi,  where  a general  rendezvous  of  all  his 
forces  was  to  take  place,  with  a view  to  advance  upon 


138 


The  Western, 


^ Rome,  expel  Alexander,  and  reinstate  Paschal.  This  ad» 
vance  took  place  in  the  spring  of  the  next  year,  1167,  but 
was  checked  for  a time  by  the  desperate  measures  of  the 
hostile  cities  of  Lombardy.  Cremona,  Bergamo,  Brescia, 
\ Mantua,  Ferrara,  and  other  places,  swore  resistance  to  the 
/ bitter  end  to  Frederick’s  Italian  administration  of  affairs. 
Even  the  scattered,  humbled  Milanese  gathered  new  cour- 
age and  returned  to  the  ruins  of  their  deserted  city  (April, 
1167),  which  was  rebuilt  and  refortified  in  an  incredibly  short 
time.  Nay,  even  Lodi,  the  emperor’s  most  faithful  strong- 
/ hold,  was  compelled  to  join  the  insurrection.  Frederick, 
meanwhile,  seemed  to  regard  all  this  stir  with  indifference, 
and  contented  himself  with  besieging  Ankona,  in  order  to 
secure  a place  of  retreat  if  it  should  become  necessary. 
^ While  he  was  engaged  in  this  undertaking  the  Romans 
themselves  turned  out  in  defense  of  Alexander.  An  army 
of  30,000  pien  was  sent  out  to  attack  Rainald.  Hearing 
of  this,  Frederick  ordered  Archbishop  Christian,  of  May- 
ence,  to  Rainald’ s assistance,  and  that  redoubtable  war- 
rior, in  spite  of  the  numerically  vast  inferiority  of  his 
forces,  threw  himself  upon  the  Romans  with  such  impetu- 
osity that  2,000  of  them  were  killed,  3,000  taken  prison- 
ers: and  the  rest  driven  back  to  Rome,  before  the  o’ates  of 
r . . ^ 

\ which  city  Christian’s  German  troops  now  took  up  their 

\ quarters.  This  disgusted  Alexander,  who  sent  for  assist- 
l ance  to  the  new  king  of  Sicily,  William  II.  In  this 
j negotiation  the  pope  was  successful.  The  Sicilian  king 
\ sent  him  an  army  by  land,  and  had  two  vessels  placed  at 
the  mouth  of  the  Tiber,  to  secure  Alexander’s  flight  should 
it  become  necessary.  Frederick,  meanwhile,  grown  tired  of 
the  Ankona  siege,  had.  effected  a treaty  of  peace  with  the 
citizens,  and  joined  his  army  to  that  of  Christian  in  front  of 
Rome.  Alexander  was  compelled  to  leave  the  city,  and 
Paschal  was  duly  placed  on  the  papal  chair.  Everything 
now  seemed  favorable  to  the  emperor,  and  he  was  dreaming 


Frederick  Barharossa. 


131) 


already  the  fatal  dream  of  a further  southward  advance,  and 
annexation  of  all  southern  Italy  and  Sicily  to  his  empire, 
when  a terribl^malarial  disease  broke  out  in  his  army  and 
compelled  him  to  leave  Rome.  He  arrived  at  Pavia  with 
his  army  fearfully  reduced.  The  cities  of  Lombardy  saw 
in  this  the  hand  of  God,  and  took  new  courage.  Frederick 
realized  that  he  had  not  forces  enough  to  maintain  himself. 
In  March,  1168,  he  retreated  to  Susa  with  but  a small  force. 
Here  the  discovery  of  a plot  to  assassinate  him  led  the 
emperor  to  take  to  flight  at  night,  accompanied  by  only  five 
men,  together  with  whom  he  finally  reached  the  German 
frontier. 

He  did  not  appear  humbled  or  downcast  on  his  return, 
but  was  wise  enough  for  the  seven  years  following  to  devote 
himself  chiefly  to  the  interests  of  his  more  immediate  king- 
dom, and  its  advancement  in  science,  literature,  architect- 
ure, legislation,  and  poetry.  The  Minnesong  had  now 
already  made  considerable  progress,  and  songs  like  the  fob 
lowing  may  already  have  been  heard : 

A LOVE  SONG,  BY  SIR  MILO  VON  SEVELINGEN. 

The  Knight : 

“ I live  in  noble  manner — in  the  world  none  better  live ; 

My  thoughts,  though,  still  stay  mourning,  nor  can  aught  comfort  give, 

Except  a noble  woman,  whom  as  my  life  I rate. 

My  eyes  have  never  litten  on  fairer  woman  yet ; 

Hence,  meetly  sound  her  praises  : 

In  her  there  is  no  change,  how  slight. 

That  day  I’ll  ever  honor,  as  I her  favor  value. 

When  her  sweet  eye  shall  beam  me  bright. 

I bear  love  of  a ladj^  I know  full  well  wherefore  ; 

Since  I began  to  serve  her,  pleased  she  me  more  and  more. 

Aye,  dearer,  and  still  dearer,  thus  is  she  at  all  times  to  me. 

Aye,  fairer,  and  still  fairer,  thus  she  at  all  times  pleases  me. 

She’s  blessed  with  all  virtues, 

The  noblest  gifts  her  life  consort. 

And  died  I for  her  dear  love,  and  hied  I to  a new  life  then. 

E’en  as  my  bride  and  love  I’d  there  her  court.” 


140 


The  Western, 


The  Lady: 

“Woe  the  accurs’d  watchman, ^ that  me  great  evil  wrought  I 
Without  my  fault  they  have  me  into  sore  scandal  brought. 

They  think  they’ll  make  me  loathe  him,  if  wicked  speech  they  thus* 
forth  send ; 

But  let  the  whole  world  know  it,  I am  his  dear  beloved  friend ! 

All  but  close  up  to  him  lying — 

This,  God  knows,  I have  never  done  ! — 

Though  they  pluck  out  my  eyes  me, 

My  soul  will  ne’er  by  other  love  or  other  man  be  won. 

“ My  eyes  have  chosen  for  me  a young  and  worthy  man. 

This  envy  other  women ; I never  other  harm  did  plan. 

Then  that  I did  so  love  him,  and  that  he  loves  me  over  all, 

To  this  love  will  I turn,  now,  my  heart  and  all  my  soul. 

Whoever  may  his  favor  have  heretofore  enjoyed, 

’Tis  her  fault  if  she  loses  him. 

Yet  will  I never  chide  her,  if  she  shows  sorrow  at  my  side. 

I saw  the  summer’s  messengers,  the  flowers  so  rosy-red  ” — 

The  Knight's  Messenger: 

“ Know’st  thou,  gentle  lady,  what  a knight  would  thee  have  said  ? 

Secretly  he  greets  thee,  ne’er  loved  so  dear  his  heart ; 

But  his  heart  is  sorrow-saddened  ever  since  you  did  part. 

Now  cheer  his  mood  thou,  sweetly, 

This  summer-time,  so  bless’d  ! 

Joyous  he  will  be  never 

Till  in  thine  arms  he  cosy  lies,  by  love  caress’d.” 

The  Lady  : 

“ I have  been  told  a story  my  mood  might,  in  high  flight,  delight ; 

For  he  has  now  turned  homeward,  before  whom  grief  must  take  to  flight- 
Now  is  to  my  heart’s  sorrow  leave  of  absence  given  gay  ; 

His  virtues  call  upon  me  to  follow  steadily  love  for  aye. 

I’ll  lie  up  close  unto  him. 

To  this  same  sweet  young  man. 

Hail  me,  he  has  returned. 

How  well  he  woman’s  heart  does  ken  ! ” 

’ Watchmen,  or  spyers,  were  men  employed  by  the  noble  knights  to  watch 
the  virtue  of  their  noble  wives,  and  spy  upon  their  noble  wives’  noble  lovers. 
To  retroact  this  arrangement  between  knight-husband  and  his  watcher  on  the 
one  side,  and  the  knight-lover  and  the  lady  on  the  other  side,  the  watchman 
received  a few  pieces  of  silver  more  from  the  latter  party,  on  the  understand- 
ing that  he  should  watch  over  their  safety  at  the  lady’s  innumerable  meetings- 
with  her  knight-lover.  Under  this  eas}^  custom  of  the  country  the  watchers 
had  grand  old  times,  which  are  sung  in  many  songs  of  that  period,  with  appro- 
priate thankfulness. 


Frederick  Ba  rharossa . 


141 


On  the  whole,  it  was  of  great  benehtto  Frederick  that  eir- 
eumstaiices  should  have  compelled  him  to  turn  his  thouglits 
from  the  conquest  of  southern  Itiily  and  Sicily  to  his  home 
duties.  That  clumsy  political  construction,  the  German 
Empire,  was  so  constantly  getting  out  of  order  that  it 
required  the  permanent  presence  of  a master  machinist. 
The  prince  most  dangerous  to  the  emi)eror’s  supremacy 
was  Henry  the  Lion,  whose  rapacity  in  the  way  of  annexing 
lands  to  his  possessions,  whether  by  fair  means  or  foul,  Avas 
^ illimitable,  and  continually  involved  him  in  broils  and  wars.  ' 

I Barbarossa,  lioAvcA^er,  had  a great  personal  liking  for  this 
foremost  of  the  tVelfs — who  was,  moreover,  a relative — and 
disregarded  the  constant  AA^arnino's  of  Rainald,  who  saAV  in 
Henry  the  Lion  only  an  unscrupulous  rival  of  Frederick's 
poAver,  and  traced  his  hostility  cA^en  to  the  revolt  of  tho 
cities  of  Lombardy  and  the  papal  hatred  of  the  Hohenstauf- 

(fens.  To  settle  Henry  the  Lion’s  quarrels  in  a friendly  Avay 
was,  therefore,  the  emperor’s  first  measure  after  his  return 
to  Germany.  Another  disturbance  in  the  northern  part  of 
the  empire  Avas  caused  by  King  Waldemar  of.  Denmark's 
descent  upon  the  island  of  Ruegen,  to  Avhich  Henry  the  Lion 
also  lent  his  support.  This  beautiful  island  on  the  Baltic 
had  long  been  an  object  of  Danish  lust  of  conquest,  and,  after 
some  cogitation  as  to  Avhat  pretext  should  be  advanced  for 
the  descent,  it  Avas  suggested  that  the  pretext  most  unobjec- 
tionable Avould  be  the  conversion  of  that  northern  })aradise 
of  the  sea  to  the  cause  of  Christendom.  For  the  people  of 
Ruegen,  like  all  Prussians,  AA^ere  heathens  of  the  most  primi- 
tive kind,  and  Avorshipped  a wooden  idol,  Avhom  they  called 
Svantevits,  Avith  the  same  implicit  faith  in  his  poAver  Avhere- 
Avith  the  African  looks  up  to  his  Obi,  and  Avhich  Ave  of  the 
I present  day  point  to  as  an  incontestable  proof  that  the 
/ negro  Avill  never  attain  the  fullness  of  the  Avhite  man’s  civili- 
zation. Before  the  men  of  Ruegen  had  any  suspicion  of  . 
the  fate  in  store  for  them,  a Danish  army  stood  before 
Arkona,  their  beautiful  capital,  overlooking  proudly  from 


142 


The  Western. 


its  eminence  of  inaccessible  chalk  rocks  the  vast  expanse  of 
the  Baltic.  Its  only  conne(‘4ion  with  the  mainland  was  in 
th(‘  west,  and  that  side  was  protected  by  a fifty-feet-high 
wall.  But  luck  favored  the  Danes,  and  in  a very  short  time 
Arkona  was  forced  to  surrender.  It  is  much  to  be  doubted, 
however,  whether  any  very  lasting  benefit  resulted  to  the 
liuegen  Pagans  from  the  compulsory  christianizing  which 
followed  their  subjugation,  considering  that  their  Prussian 
descendants  are,  up  to  this  day,  with  rare  exceptions,  still  as 
deeply  rooted  as  ever  they  were  in  Pnganism.  The  only 
difference  is  that  the  Pagans  of  old  worshiped  a specified 
j)iece  of  matter,  shaped  into  an  uncouth  form,  which  they 
called  Svantevits,  whereas  the  Pagans  of  to-day  bow  their 
heads  before  the  collective  mass  of  matter,  and  call  it  the 
Universe  ; and  that  the  former  gave  up  all  their  gold  and 
wealth  in  general  to  their  god,  whereas  their  descendants  rip 
up  the  very  bowels  of  their  god  to  extract  gold  and  sil- 
ver therefrom  with  which  to  till  their  own  pockets  ; and  that, 
while  the  former  poured  out  their  incense  on  the  altar  of 
their  idol,  without  a thought  of  their  own  enjoyment  thereof, 
the  latter  pour  out  their  incense  in  the  pages  of  long- 
perioded  books,  with  not  a single  thought  that  their  idol  may 
be  glorified  thereby,  but  Avith  a Anew  solely  to  their  own 
glorification  and  pocket-money. 

And  yet  Buegen,  beautiful  Ruegen,  did  pass  also  through 
a period  of  charming  gladness  under  her  iieAv  Christian  dis- 
pensation, as  the  Minnesinger,  some  fiftA^  years  later, 
began  to  travel  northward  to  seek  quieter  homes  for  the 
appreciation  of  their  minstrelsy.  Let  us  cast  a glance  at 
this  neAV  life  in  liuegen,  as  it  appeared  about  a century 
after  Barbarossa’s  time  : Prince  Wizlav  has  been  giving  a 
grand  entertainment  in  his  beautiful  castle  hy  the  sea,  and 
the  most  famous  Minnesingers  of  that  time  have  appeared 
to  grace  it.  EA^en  Frauenlob  has  come,  courteous  and 
gracious  as  ever,  and  shoAving  in  no  AA^ay  that  he  is  per- 
fectly conscious  of  being  the  greatest  artist  of  his  age.  For 


Frederick  Barharossa 


143 


they  are  all  artists  ; all  their  poetry  is  elaborately  embel- 
lished, and  their  measures  rhythmically  intricate,  and  the 
fresh  beauty  of  the  old  Minnesong  has  not  been  heard  in  the 
land  for  many  decades.  Prince  Wizlav  himself  is  a Minne- 
singer, and  has  learned  all  the  rules  and  tricks  of  his  art ; but 
he  also  knows  nothing  of  the  minstrelsy  of  former  days. 
But,  as  the  clever  singers  of  his  festival  finish  their  strains, 
an  old  man,  who  has  listened  attentively  to  the  songs  with- 
out attracting  notice  himself,  advances  quietly  into  the 
center  of  the  hall,  and,  taking  up  his  little  harp-like  instru- 
ment, strikes  a few  preliminary  chords,  and  sings  with  a 
slightly  trembling,  but  still  full,  voice,  which  betokens 
great  culture,  the  following  impromptu  verses  : 


THE  LOVERS,  BY  HENRY  VON  MORUNGEN. 

“Ah  me  ! and  shall  me  now  nevermore 
Light  through  the  darksome  night 
The  body  of  my  love,  and  pour 
Radiance  than  snow  more  white  ? 

It  cheated  e’en  my  gaze. 

Methought  ’t  must  be  the  blaze 
Of  the  moon’s  full-orbed  face  ; 

Then  rose  the  day.” 

“ Ah  me,  and  shall  he  now  nevermore 
A morning  here  awake  ? 

The  night  too  swiftly  passes  o’er ; 

No  time  complaint  to  make. 

Alas,  da}"  comes  our  way  ! 

As  he  sighed  when  he  lay 
With  me  at  his  last  stay; 

Then  rose  the  day.” 

“Ah  me,  she  kissed  times  numberless 
My  lips  e’n  as  I slept ; 

Then  trickled  down  upon  my  face 
The  precious  tears  she  wept ; 

But  I her  comforted. 

Till  she  her  weeping  stay’d, 

And  sweet  embrace  we  play’d , 

Then  rose  the  day.” 


144 


The  Western. 


“ Ah  me,  how  takes  he  such  delight 
My  body’s  form  to  see  ! 

When  he  my  dress  drew  off,  dear  knight, 

’Twas  to  behold  said  he. 

My  arms  uncovered  bare. 

I thought  it  a wonder  rare 
That  it  should  tire  him  ne’er; 

Then  rose  the  day.” 

Then,  pausing  a while,  and  changing  the  meter,  whilst  a. 
smile  played  around  his  lips,  he  began  : 

TO  MY  LADY. 

Lady,  wouldst  thou  cure  my  pain  ? 

Look  a little  upon  me  ; 

Struggling  longer  is  in  vain. 

And  my  life  must  ruined  be  ; 

I am  sick,  my  heart  is  wounded  ; 

Lady,  this  have  done  to  me,  my  eyes  and  thy  sweet  red  mouth  rounded.. 

Lady,  look  upon  my  woe ! 

Now,  before  my  life  leaves  me. 

Speak  one  word  unto  me  ; lo, 

’Tis  the  simplest  thing  to  thee. 

Thou  say’st  always:  No,  no,  no! 

No,  no,  no,  no,  no! — this  breaks  sheer  my  heart  in  two. 

Say,  instead,  I prithee,  lady  : Yes,  yes,  yes,  yes ! 

Yes,  yes,  yes,  yes!  — this  brings  my  heart  blessedness. 

l^eiisively  the  prince  retired  to  his  study,  and,  taking  up 
his  own  harp,  he  sang  the  following,  inventing  the  melody 
as  the  words  came  to  him.  In  the  first  verse^,  it  will 
he  noticed,  he  followed  the  elaborate  verse  construction  of 
his  teachers  and  contemporaries,  and  then  endeavored, 
though  in  a rather  imperfect  way,  to  chant  in  the  style  of 
the  old  Minnesinger  whom  he  had  just  heard : 

THE  SONG  OF  YEARNING,  BY  PRINCE  W’'IZLAV  OF  RUEGEN. 

The  untaught  gleeman 
Improvised  a tone  of  sweetest  yearning. 

Thereof  suffer  I great  grief ; for  so  courtly  a tone  in  vain  I try  to  render. 

This  hurts  me,  leaman 

Of  song’s  art,  who  now  such  tones  would  fain  be  learning; 

’Tis  because  I never  heard  it,  in  my  time,  that  I de'em  it  so  sweet  and  tender-. 


Frederick  Barharossa . 


145 


Thus  has  he,  by  his  new  song,  brought  me  into  great  trouble  : 

For  the  women  and  the  men  their  cry  for  song  redouble  ; 

And  demand  a song  of  yearning. 

Beautiful  and  with  love  burning. 

T*©  them  all  I now  reply  : my  art’s  rod  has  left  me,  and  my  tone,  back-bounding, 
Children,  now  shall  wake  anew  that  same  old  and  3’earning  song,  so  sweetly 
sounding. 

I must  sing  in  the  old  yearning  manner: 

Could  I under  pleasure’s  banner 
Kange  me  even  at  my  will. 

Scattering  from  me  every  trace  of  sorrow, 

I should  taste  rapture  most  thorough, 

And  my  soul  with  high  mood  fill. 

Nevermore  should  I sing  songs  of  yearning; 

But,  on  life’s  way  turning, 

Into  age  keep  joy  forever  burning, 

^ Without  painful  thrill. 

In  high  worth  a rare  adventure  sweetly 
Love  to-day  on  me  wrought  neatly  ; 

As  I pondered  on  her  grace. 

Rose  to  meet  each  wish,  before  my  vision. 

Fairest  image  of  petition. 

And  into  my  heart  found  ways 
With  rare  power,  spreading  a sunlight  tender. 

There’s  no  rapture  grander 
Than  if  she  would  gladden  with  her  splendor 
Whom  her  love  should  bless. 

Through  my  eyes  into  my  heart  she  entered, 

As  a sun  therein  she  centered  ; 

When  she  had  flown  in  so  straight, 

She  deprives  me  sheer  of  all  my  senses.  , 

Loveable  love,  leave  otf  thy  trances  ! 

Look  how  she  has  fixed  my  fate  I 
When  the  lovely  one  love’s  trap  puts  open 
And  with  love  does  copen. 

And  sweet  heart-love  seems  to  grope  in. 

Love  draws  love  to  mate. 


A.  E.  Kroeger. 


14() 


The  Western. 


MAKARIA. 


A PLAY  IN  FIVE  ACTS. 


S.  STERNE. 


Dramatis  Per'sonce. 

Demophoon — King  of  Athens,  son  of  Theseus. 

JoLAUS — Nephew  of  Hercules,  and  leader  of  the  Heraclides. 
Adrastus — Soyi  of  Jolaus'  friend,  and  under  his  proteetioyi. 
Alkmene — Mother  of  Hercules. 

Makaria — Daughter  of  Hercules. 

The  Heraclides — His  Sons. 

Kropeus — Herald  to  King  Eurystheus. 

Milos — An  Old  Athenian. 

The  Priestess,  at  Delphi. 

Messengers,  Women,  Citizens  of  Athens,  etc. 


ACT  V. 

Adras.  I thought  to  tell  the  marvelous  tale,  old  man. 
To  other  listener ; pour  it  into  ears 
Other  and  sweeter  far  than  yours  ! Yet,  since 
You,  too,  have  suffered  sharpest  grief — have  given 
Your  dearest  for  the  saving  of  the  city — 

I will  content  you  here ! ’Twas  yester  noon 
That,  after  news  of  a new  bloody  fray. 

The  king,  with  all  the  remnant  of  stout  men 
The  town  could  barely  spare  from  its  defense. 

Moved  out  to  meet  the  foe.  We  found  him  camped 
A half  a league  scarce  from  the  city  gates. 

And  close  to  him,  distant  by  scarce  a stone’s  throw. 
The  troops  of  Hillus,  that  we  joined.  And  now. 

When  our  united  forces  stood  drawn  up 

In  the  array  of  battle,  and  the  field 

Flamed  far  and  wide  with  thousand  glittering  arms, 

Hillus  sprang  from  his  chariot,  and  called  out 

He’d  meet  Eurystheus  in  single  combat. 


Shalcesj)eariana . 


301 


Harvey’s  Third  Letter,  etc.;  Palladis  Tamia;  "Wit’s  Treasury,  by  Francis 
Meres  ; Stanza  from  Spenser’s  Colin  Clouts  Come  Home  Againe;  Hexame- 
ton  and  Canti  of  Willobie  His  Avisa;  William  Harbert’s  Epicedium  ; Sixth 
Yerse  of  Drayton’s  Legend  of  Matilda ; Extract  from  William  Clarke’s 
Polimanteia;  John  Weever’s  Twenty-second  Epigram,  Ad  Gulielnum, 
Shaksperey  from  his  Epigrammes,  in  the  Oldest  Cut  and  Newest  Fashion  ; 
Extract  from  Richard  Carew’s  Excellencie  of  the  English  Tongue ; Stanzas 
from  Robert  Toste’s  Month’s  Mind  of  a Melancholy  Lover ; A Remembrance 
of  Some  English  Poets,  etc. ; Extract  from  Satyres  VII  and  X of  John 
Marston’s  Scourge  of  Villanie ; also  a General  Introduction,  by  C.  M. 
Ingleby,  LL.D.,  explaining  various  Allusions  contained  in  the  Volume. 
Series  IV,  No.  1.  8vo.  London,  1874.  67d. 

Shakspere’s  Authorship  of  the  Two  Noble  Kinsmen,  by  the  late  William 
Spalding,  M.A. ; with  a Life  of  the  Author,  by  John  Hill  Burton,  LL.D. 
Series  VHI,  No.  1.  8vo.  London,  1876.  67d. 

Shakspere’s  England.  — Comprising  Harrison’s  Description  of  England  in 
Shakspere’s  Youth,  edited  from  the  first  two  Editions  of  Holinshed’s  Chroni- 
cle, A.  D.  1577-1587,  by  Frederick  J.  Furnivall.  Tell-Trothes  New  Year’s 
Gift  and  The  Passionate  Morrice.  1593.  John  Lane’s  Tom  Tell-Troths 
Message  and  his  Pen’s  Complaint.  1600.  Thomas  Powell’s  Tom  of  All 

' Trades,  or  The  Plaine  Path-Way  to  Preferment.  1631.  The  Glasse  of 
Godly  Love.  1569.  Edited  by  F.  J.  Furnivall.  Wm.  Stafford’s  Com- 
pendious or  Briefe  Examination  of  Certayne  Ordinary  Complaints  of  divers 
of  our  Countrymen  in  these  our  Dayes,  A.  D.  1581  (otherwise  called  “ A 
Briefe  Conceipt  of  English  Pollic}^  ”),  with  an  Introduction  by  Frederic  D. 
Matthew.  Edited  by  Furnivall.  Philip  Stubbes’  Anatomy  of  the  Abuses 
in  England  in  Shakspere’s  Youth,  A.  D.  1583,  with  Extracts  from  Stubbes’ 
Life  of  His  Wife,  the  Godly  Life  and  Christian  Death  of  Mistress  Katherine 
Stubbes,  etc.  Constituting  Nos.  1,  2,  3,  4,  of  Series  VI.  2 volumes,  8vo. 
London,  1876,  1877.  67d. 

Transactions  of  New  Shakspere  Society.  — Contents,  Nos.  1 and  2 : On 
Metrical  Tests  as  applied  to  Dramatic  Poetry ; Paper  by  Rev.  F.  G.  Flea}’. 
On  the  Authorship  of  The  Taming  of  the  Shrew,  on  the  Authorship  of  Timon 
of  Athens,  and  on  the  Play  of  Pericles ; by  Rev.  F.  G.  Fleay.  The  several 
Shares  of  Shakspere  and  Fletcher  in  Henry  VIII. ; by  James  Spedding. 
The  Shares  of  Shakspere  and  Fletcher  in  The  Two  Noble  Kinsmen  ; by 
S.  Hickson.  On  the  Porter  in  Macbeth  ; by  J.  W.  Hales.  On  certain  Plays 
of  Shakspere  of  which  Portions  were  written  at  different  Periods  of 
his  Life;  by  Rev.  F.  G.  Fleay.  On  two  Plays  of  Shakspere’s,  the  Ver- 
sion of  which,  as  we  have  them,  are  the  Results  of  Alterations  by  other 
Hands ; by  Rev.  F.  G.  FleajL  Mr.  Halliwell’s  Hint  on  the  Date  of  Corio- 
lanus,  etc.  The  Political  Use  of  the  Stage  in  Shakspere’s  Time,  and  the 
Politics  of  Shakspere’s  Historical  Plays;  by  Richard  Simpson.  On  the 
“Weak  Endings”  of  Shakspere,  etc.;  by  Jno.  K.  Ingram.  Which  are 
Hamlet’s  “Dozen  or  Sixteen  Lines  ?”  On  the  Meter  of  Henry  VHI. ; by 
Mr.  Roderick, 


302 


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Nos.  3 and  4.  — On  the  Corrected  Edition  of  Richard  III.  ; by  Jas.  Spedding. 
On  the  Quarto  and  the  Folio  of  Richard  III. ; by  E.  H.  Pickersgill.  On  the 
Quarto  and  Folio  of  King  Lear ; by  Professor  Delius.  On  “ Evening  Mass  ” 
in  Romeo  and  Juliet ; by  R.  Simpson.  On  the  Bond  Story  in  the  Merchant  of 
Venice,  and  a Version  of  It  in  the  Cursor  Mundi ; by  Miss  Toulmin  Smith. 
Note  upon  the  “Elf-Locks”  in  Romeo  and  Juliet;  by  J.  W.  Legg.  Lady 
Macbeth  ; by  the  Countess  of  Charlemont.  On  the  Character  of  Banquo ; 
by  Algernon  Faggo.  On  Shakspere’s  Use  of  Narration  in  his  Dramas  ; by 
Professor  Delius.  On  the  Authorship  of  the  Second  and  Third  Parts  of 
Henry  VL,  and  their  Originals ; by  Miss  Jane  Lee.  The  Political  Element 
in  Massinger  ; by  Professor  S.  R.  Oardiner.  Shakspere’s  Dramatic  Art;  Dr. 
S.  Forman’s  Book  of  Plays,  or  Notes  in  1611  on  Shakspere’s  Richard  IL, 
Winter’s  Tale,  Cymbeline,  and  Macbeth.  On  the  Confusion  of  Time  in  The 
Merry  Wives ; by  R.  G-rant  White.  The  Speeches  of  Brutus  on  Caesar,  and 
of  Antony  over  Caesar’s  dead  Body,  from  the  Englisht  Appian’s  Chronicle  of 
1578.  Account  of  the  German  Shakspere  Society’s  Jahrbuch,  1876;  by  F. 
D.  Matthew.  Collation  of  the  First  Edition  of  Marlowe’s  Edward  IL,  1594, 
with  Dyce’s  Text  of  1850  ; by  Dr.  R.  Gen4e.  List  of  Shakspereana  since 
January  1,  1874;  by  Franz  Thimm.  Scraps.  Indexes  to  both  Volumes. 
Lengthy  and  interesting  Discussions  of  the  various  Papers,  by  Furnivall, 
Nicholson,  and  other  Members  of  the  Spciety.  Series  I,  Nos.  1,  2,  3,  4.  2 
volumes.  8vo.  London,  1874-1877.  67d. 

Fred.  M.  Crunden. 


FREDERICK  BARBAROSSA. 

[concluded.] 

After  having  settled  the  quarrels  of  his  princes,  Frederick 
hetook  himself  to  settle  his  estates  upon  his  sons.  He 
caused  the  eldest,  subsequently  Henry  VI.,  to  be  elected 
King  of  Germany  at  the  Bamberg  Reichstag,  August  16, 
1169.  His  second  son,  Frederick,  got  Suabia  and  the  lauds 
of  the  elder  Welf,  who,  being  an  uncle  to  Henry  the  Lion  by 
his  brother,  and  also  uncle  to  Frederick  b}^  his  sister,  had 
left  his  estate  to  Barbarossa,  because  the  latter  had  given 
him  generous  pecuniary  assistance  at  times  when  his  extrav- 
ammt  mode  of  livino;  necessitated  such  assistance,  whilst 
Henry  the  Lion  had  steadily  refused  to  send  him  moiiej". 


Frederick  Barharossa . 


303 


To  his  third  son,  Conrad,  Frederick  gave  the  estates  of  the 
Duke  von  Kotlienhurg,  who  also  had  made  the  emperor  his 
heir.  His  fourth  son,  Otto,  was  proclaimed  Governor  of 
Burgundy  and  Arles,  Rainald’s  death  having  left  that  posi- 
tion vacant.  The  youngest  of  his  sons,  Philip,  was  also 
properly  endowed  ; though  it  is  said  that  Frederick’s  ambi- 
tion had  destined  him  for  clerical  honors,  in  order  to  have  a 
Hohenstauffen  ready  for  the  occupation  of  the  papal  throne. 

In  this  manner  seven  happy  years  passed  away,  at  the 
end  of  which  Italy  again  demanded  the  emperor’s  presence. 

Pope  Paschal  had  died  September  20,  1168,  and  his  adher- 
ents had  elected  John  of  Struma  his  successor,  under  the 
name  of  Kalixtus  III.  Frederick  hesitated  to  recognize 
Kalixtus,  being  rather  inclined  to  put  an  end  to  the  ever- 
lasting quarrels  between  emperor  and  pope  ; and  Alexander 
felt  so  sure  of  Frederick’s  ultimate  support  that  he  again 
refused  propositions  from  Emanuel  of  Greece  looking 
towards  joint  action.  Alexander  was  also  at  that  time  addi- 
tionally encouraged  by  the  l)ehavior  of  Henry  H.  of  England, 
whom  the  murder  of  a Becket  caused  to  return  to  Alexan- 
der’s support.  The  cities  of  Lombardy  thus  grew  so 
emboldened  that  they  established  a confederation  directed 
specially  against  Emperor  Frederick’s  rule  ; but  internal 
dissension  and  jealousy  rendered  them  powerless  to  effect- 
any  definite  object.  The  emperoy,  meanwhile,  sent  the  Arch- 
bishop Christian,  of  Mayence,  to  try  whether  he  could  not 
settle  the  Lombardian  difficulties  peaceably.  Genoa  re- 
ceived him  with  friendly  greeting,  but  the  archbishop 
became  soon  convinced  that  the  other  cities  were  hopelessly 
arrayed  against  each  other,  and  against  the  enforcement  of 
any  supreme  law  and  government  over  them  all.  He  also 
noticed  with  grave  apprehension  the  intrigues  of  the  Greek 
emperor  to  gain  a foot-hold  in  northern  Italy,  and,  as  soon 
as  Emanuel  had  virtually  got  the  city  of  Ankona  to  declare 
for  him,  Christian  resolved  to  put  an  end  to  this  encroach- 
ment upon  his  sovereign’s  rights  by  the  force  of  arms. 


304 


The  Western. 


Nor  was  he  much  averse  to  change  his  priestly  robes  of  a 
peace-maker  for  the  armored  suit  of  a soldier,  he  being  in- 
deed equally  renowned  for  scholarship  and  knightly  achieve- 
ments. He  was  a1)le  to  preach  in  six  different  languages  — 
German,  French,  Flemish,  Lombardian,  Latin,  and  Greek  — 
and,  as  for  his  soldier-like  qualities,  he  is  said  to  have 
killed  with  his  own  hand  nine  men  in  battle,  and  with  the 
priests  and  women  of  his  army  to  have  taken  two  castles  by 
storm.  Indeed,  the  girls  and  horses  of  his  body-guard  cost 
him  more  than  the  emperor  paid  for  his  whole  retinue.  It 
happily  chanced  that  Venice  had  also  a grudge  against  the 
Greek  emperor,  Emanuel,  and  was  glad  to  seize  an  oppor- 
tunity to  gratify  it;  and  thus,  while  Christian  besieged 
Ankona  from  the  land  side,  the  Venetian  fleet  blockaded  the 
sea-port,  April,  1174.  Under  these  circumstances  Ankona 
was  soon  reduced  to  the  utmost  destitution.  Its  offer  to 
surrender,  however,  was  refused  by  Christian,  who  insisted 
on  harsher  conditions  than  the  citizens  could  make  up  their 
minds  to  concede.  Luckily,  success  came  to  them  at  the 
time  of  their  greatest  distress,  and  much  against  his  will 
the  archbishop  was  forced  to  raise  the  siege  and  retire.  It 
was  about  this  time,  in  the  fall  of  1174,  that  Frederick  for 
the  fifth  time  crossed  the  Alps  to  restore  order  in  his  Italian 
I possessions,  but  this  time  with  the  gravest  forebodings. 
For  the  prince  who  owed  him  most,  whom  he  had  raised  tn 
the  highest  position  in  his  empire,  and  admitted  to  personal 
friendship  — the  Weltish  Henry,  Duke  of  Saxony  and  Bavaria 
— had  refused  him  assistance  of  troops,  pleading  necessities 
\ of  his  own  on  the  northern  boundaries  of  his  possessions, 

I but  probably  acting,  also,  under  the  influence  and  advice  of 
V his  Italian  connections  and  of  the  pope. 

Barbarossa  called  Henry  to  a private  interview,  and  hum- 
bled  himself  so  far  as  to  implore  on  his  knees  for  the  needed 
assistance,  entreating  Henry  to  recall  to  mind  his  great 
friendship  and  generosity.  But  Henry  remained  obstinate. 
Enraged  at  Henry’s  behavior,  Barbarossa’ s wife,  who  was- 


Frederick  Barbarossa . 


305 


' present  at  the  interview,  drew  her  husband  away.  “ Dear 
lord,”  cried  she,  “ arise  ! God  will  yet  grant  you  His  aid, 
when  you  shall  be  in  a position  to  remember  this  day 
' and  this  day’s  humiliation.”  Her  prophecy  was  fulfilled. 
Disheartened,  Frederick  entered  Lombardy;  yet  he  had 
nearly  won  the  decisive,  final' battle  of  that  campaign — the 
famous  battle  of  Legnano,  1176  — when  the  heroism  of  the 
I “ Troop  of  Death”  turned  the  victory  in  favor  of  the  Lom- 
bardian army.  Frederick’s  army  was  totally  defeated  ; he 
himself  fled  for  life,  and  Avas  for  some  days  considered  lost 
and  dead.  On  no  occasion  of  his  life  did  the  grand  charac- 
ter of  Frederick  shine  forth  more  nobly  than  after  this  ter- 
rible defeat.  Frankly  acknowledging  himself  beaten,  he 
sent  a message  to  Pope  Alexander,  Avho  had  so  materially 
assisted  the  Lombardians,  asking  for  peace.  Alexander 
desired  peace  quite  as  much  as  Frederick,  and,  pleased  Avith 
the  full  submission,  appointed  an  intervieAV  at  Venice. 
Here,  July,  1177,  the  tAvo  great  men  met  at  the  door  of 
the  St.  Mark  Cathedral,  Avhere  Frederick  thrcAv  himself  at 
the  feet  of  the  pope,  Avho,  Avith  tears  in  his  eyes,  lifted  him 
up,  while  the  German  troops  struck  up  one  of  the  grand 
chorals  of  the  church. 

Peace  Avas  made  between  all  parties  ; Alexander  HI.  Avas 
recognized  as  the  legitimate  pope  ; his  opponent,  Kalixtus, 
was  induced  to  resign ; the  cities  of  Lombardy  had  most  of 
their  complaints  removed,  and  the  emperor  saAV  nearly  all 
his  clerical  appointments  confirmed  by  the  pope,  Avhom  he 
had  now  made  his  friend. 

' Thus  secured  again  in  his  Italian  possessions,  Frederick, 
January,  1178,  hastened  home  to  punish  Henry  for  his 
I ungenerous  behavior  and  disloyal  desertion  in  the  hour  of 
jneed.  Having  cited  him  before  a council,  at  Avhich  Henry 
refused  to  appear,  Frederick,  in  1180,  excommunicated  him 
from  his  possessions,  and  divided  them  in  smaller  parcels 
among  his  more  reliable  friends.  Henry  resisted  Avith  all 


306 


The  Western. 


his  might,  hut  in  vain  ; and,  reduced  to  desperation,  threw 
himself  at  last  before  the  outraged  friend’s  feet,  at  the 
council  of  Aachen,  and  sued  for  mercy.  Frederick  wept 
at  the  spectacle  of  his  humbled  friend  and  forgave  him,  but 
advised  him,  November,  1181,  to  retire  a while  to  England 
and  stay  with  his  father-in-law,  Henry  II.  Of  his  posses- 
sions he  restored  to  him  Brunswick  and  Lueneburg.  It 
was  during  that  stay  of  his  in  England  that  Matilda  bore 
Henry,  in  1183,  the  son  who  became  the  founder  of  the 
line  of  English  kings  of  the  House  of  Brunswick. 

B}"  thus  dividing  the  possessions  of  Henry,  Frederick 
put  a final  end  to  tiie  rule  of  the  powerful  dukedoms  in 
Germany,  and  inaugurated  the  safer  basis  of  numerous 
smaller  principalities.  About  the  same  time  the  other 
chief  antagonist  of  the  emperor,  Alexander  HI.,  died, 
August  30,  1181. 

Humbold  of  Ostia,  a man  of  ordinary  ability  ,but  far  inferior 
to  Alexander,  who  must  rank  among  the  great  popes,  at  the 
side  of  Gregory  and  Innocence  H.,  was  elected  pope,  under 
the  name  of  Lucius  HI.  The  Homans,  however,  soon  got 
into  trouble  with  him  and  drove  him  out  of  the  city.  The 
Archbishop  Christian,  of  Mayence,  who  had  remained  in 
Italy  to  protect  the  emperor’s  rights,  endeavored  to  come  to 
Lucius’  assistance  ; but  on  his  way  to  Home  he  was  taken 
prisoner,  and  when,  after  being  released,  he  had  gathered  a 
new  army,  a malarial  fever  seized  him  near  Home,  from  the 
effect  of  which  he  died,  August,  1183. 

The  six  years’  truce,  to  which  the  cities  of  Lombardy 
had  pledged  themselves  at  the  peace-making  between  Alex- 
ander and  Frederick,  at  Venice,  having  now  expired,  much 
discussion  arose,  both  in  Lombardy  and  Germany,  as  to  the 
advisability  of  continuing  peace  or  entering  again  upon  a 
state  of  constant  dissension  and  warfare.  Happily  the 
})eace  party  predominated  on  both  sides  of  the  Alps,  and 
on  June  23,  1183,  the  peace  of  Constance  was  con- 


Frederick  Barharossa. 


307 


eluded,  by  which  a permanent  satisfactory  arrangement 
of  the  relations  between  Germany  and  Italy  seemed  to  be 
effected. 

This  gratifying  state  of  universal  peace  within  his  empire 
Frederick  determined  to  celebrate  by  the  grandest  festival 
Germany  had  ever  witnessed.  It  was  set  for  May  20,  1184, 
at  the  city  of  Mayence.  Princes  and  nobles,  prelates  and 
priests,  and  an  immense  concourse  of  people  assembled  from 
all  parts  of  Germany,  from  France,  Italy,  England,  Spain, 
and  Hungary.  Of  knights  alone,  over  40,000  were  present ; 
the  numbers  of  the  people  were  simply  countless.  A new, 
temporary  city  arose  outside  of  Mayence,  for  the  accom- 
modation of  this  immense  populace.  The  Rhine  Avas  cov- 
ered with  boats  bearing  provisions,  and  all  the  profusion 
apparent  at  the  festival  did  not  detract  from  its  elegance. 
The  emperor’s  two  sons.  King  Henry  VI.  and  Duke  Fred- 
erick of  Suabia,  Avere  made  knights,  after  having  duly  per- 
formed all  the  ceremonies  prescribed  for  such  occasions  ; 
and  many  another  ambitious  youth  of  less  high  rank  dated 
his  knighthood  from  the  festival  of  Mayence,  the  memory 
whereof,  indeed,  AA^as  handed  doAvn  from  generation  to 
generation.  Minnesingers  were,  of  course,  not  lacking. 
Amongst  them  may  be  recognized  Henry  von  Yeldegge, 
Avho  takes  note  of  all  he  sees,  in  order  to  commem- 
orate the  splendors  of  his  times  in  his  Aeneis;  and  here, 
before  this  tent  Avhere  Barharossa  himself  and  his  son 
Henry  — both  as  skillful  judges  of  minstrelsy  as  of  tourna- 
ment-battles— are  idly  standing,  chatting  Avith  friends,  a 
younger  minstrel  is  just  about  to  strike  his  note.  And  this 
is  Avhat  he  sings  : 

THE  bachelor’s  SONG,  BY  SIR  VON  KUENZINGER. 

Alas  me  ! why  mourn  they  so 

Who  have  tasted  love’s  caressing? 

I stay  glad,  and  yet  I know 

I ne’er  won  that  joy  and  blessing 


308 


The  Western. 


"Which  after  bliss  love  leaves  a yearning  sorrow, 

When  time  comes  to  depart. 

Now,  I sleep  quiet  till  the  morrow, 

And  no  one  says:  “God  bless  thee,  dear  sweetheart.” 

Women  serve  I unremittent; 

Woe  me,  should  I long  for  meed! 

She  would  but  refuse  me  flippant; 

Then  her  grace  I’d  lose  indeed. 

Her  friendship  rather  will  I keep  and  guard  me. 

Than  by  love  win  her  hate. 

’T would  miserably  age  and  ne’er  reward  me ; 

To  serve  her  true  for  nothing  be  my  fate! 

Helps  it  me  to  engage  love’s  war. 

Torturing  all  my  life  out  merely  ? 

Little  notice  from  afar 
Pays  she  whom  I love  so  dearly. 

Would  she  but  love  me  with  the  love  I show  her. 

Happy  were  I,  and  freed. 

My  service  seems  but  little  to  her ; 

Well,  I must  put  good  will  in  for  the  deed. 

Scarcely  had  he  finished  when  another  Minnesinger 
stepped  forward,  and  with  still  more  audacious  rhythm  as 
well  as  subject-matter  chanted  the  following : 

THE  lover’s  song,  BY  CHRISTIAN  VON  HAMLE. 

With  body  enjoying 
By  white  arms  clasped  cosy, 

And  pressed  to  the  heart  close,  how  glorious  and  good! 

With  woman  love  toying. 

Her  cheeks  glowing  rosy. 

Her  lips  with  love  laughing,  how  cheers  this  the  mood ! 

Then  is  one  body  where  hearts  still  are  twain  — 

Speech  alone  showing  them  woman  and  man. 

Then  breaks  to  pieces  dull  care,  grown  still  crisper ; 

Neither  gives  love  then  for  long  time  permission  — one  single  word  with 
mouth  to  whisper. 

Ah,  but  one  kisses  the  sweetest  mouth,  then. 

Ever  by  woman  in  love  given  to  man ! 

To  love  thus  with  passion 
A woman  makes  many 

A heart  sometimes  sad,  and  at  other  times  glad. 


Frederick  Barharossa . 


309 


But  who  holds  possession 
Unwatched,  without  pain,  he 
The  sweetest  of  joys  will  discover  outspread. 

Where  four  fond  arms  are  close  flown  into  one. 

Sweeter  joy  never  the  sun  shone  upon. 

Who  finds  such  cheer  with  a sweet  loving  woman, 

Never  the  world  can  in  him  arouse  rapture  apter  to  kill  care’s  bane- 
ful summon ; 

There  two  hearts  press  to  each  other  so  close, 

To  slip  between  them  no  leaf  so  thin  grows. 

Where  four  fond  eyes,  meeting. 

Love  seeing  each  other, 

Two  hearts  in  like  manner  must  love  to  unite. 

Though  stealthy  their  greeting, 

And  trying  it  to  smother. 

All  things,  sad  and  glad,  they  must  share  in  love’s  light. 

Then  burns  their  love  e’en  with  love  like  a glow. 

And  greater  wonder  still  love  hastes  to  show! 

Causisg  their  mouths  to  forget  self  in  other. 

Love  thus,  in  many  a way  and  sweet  manner,  sorrow  and  sadness 
swiftly  does  smother. 

Aye,  love  has  loving  itself  so  o’ercome, 

Blessed  the  lovers  who  dwell  in  its  home ! 


/ Having  now  again  established  himself  supreme  ruler,  and 
/secured  the  foundation  of  lasting  peace  at  home,  Barba- 
rossa  once  more,  for  the  sixth  and  last  time,  in  the  fall  of 
1184,  bent  his  way  toward  Italy.  He  was  everywhere 
received  in  triumph.  His  son  Henry  was  crowned  King  of 
Lombardy,  with  the  famous  iron  crown  ; and  at  the  mar- 
riage of  Henry,  in  1186,  with  Constance,  the  last  heiress  of 
Norman  descent  of  the  Kingdom  of  Naples  and  the  Sicilies, 
so  strangely  won  by  the  great  Norman  seafarers  in  the 
eleventh  century  — a conquest  which  music  has  forever  com- 
^ memorated  with  the  names  of  Tancred  and  Robert  — the 
\ formerly  rebellious  city  of  Milan  sued  for  the  honor  of  hav- 
ling  the  marriage  festivities  celebrated  within  its  walls. 
Strange  working  of  history ! From  this  very  marriage  in 
jMilan,  which  seemed  to  open  new  glory  to  the  Hohenstauf- 
4en  family,  arose  their  speedy  ruin  ; it  was  in  trying  to  gain 


310 


The  Western. 


the  Kingdom  of  the  Two  Sicilies,  which  by  this  marriage 
descended  to  the  Hohenstaiilfen,  that  young  Conradin,  the 
last  of  the  race,  met  his  tragic  death.  But  even  Frederick 
was  already  made  to  feel  the  curse  that  followed  this  mar- 
adage.  It  might  suit  him  well  enough  to  have  the  papal 
states  hedged  in  from  both  North  and  South  — Lombardy 
and  Naples  — by  Hohenstauflen  rule,  hut  the  popes  were 
furious  at  it.  Lucius  did  his  best  to  prevent  the  marriage, 
and  when  he  died,  in  November,  1185,  his  successor.  Urban, 
would  undoubtedly  have  succeeded  in  picking  a quarrel 
with  the  emperor  had  not  suddenly  come  the  news  of  Sala- 
din’s  conquest  of  Jerusalem. 

Then  Frederick,  having  returned  to  Germany  in  the  fall  of 
1186,  began  at  once  to  prepare  for  that  second  and  last  cru- 
sade of  his  life,  which  has  thrown  a most  fitting  final  glory 
over  his  name.  In  splendor  it  certainlj"  outshone  all  the 
other  crusades.  There  were  the  Hospital  Knights,  with 
their  black  cloaks,  wearing  a white  cross  ; there  were  the 
Knights  Templar,  with  a red  cross  on  their  white  cloaks  ; 
and  knights  of  numerous  other  orders,  in  incredible  num- 
bers, and  assembled  for  one  of  the  strangest  enterprises 
that  ever  moved  man’s  breast.  Nearly  _2007000  men 
gathered  under  the  greatest  princes  of  Eiu*o]^>Oy  tlae  noble 
Emperor  of  Germany  at  their  head.  Him  were  to  join,  b}^ 
the  sea-route,  the  astute  Philip  of  France  and  Richard  Cceur 
de  Lion  — most  romantic  of  all  heroes  of  romance,  his  strong- 
knit  frame,  light  hair,  and  blue  eyes  almost  a cop}^  of  Fred- 
erick’s person,  as  Barbdrossa  had  been  in  his  youth  and 
manhood,  and  before  age  had  whitened  his  hair  and  beard  — 
with  his  gay  troubadour  friends  from  France,  Gauceloii 
Faidit,  Pierre  Vidal ; aye,  and,  following  in  secret,  his  lady- 
love, La  Dame  de  Fay  el,  the  unhappy  Chatalain  de  Coucy, 
all  unconscious  of  the  watchful  jealousy  of  the  lady’s  lord, 
little  dreaming  that  the  heart  which  beats  for  the  lady  so 
tenderly  will  become  her’  veritable  food  and  cause  of  death 


Frederick  Barharossa, 


311 


— for  my  Lord  de  Tayel  has  heard  how  the  Compte  de 
Rosillon  punished  his  wife  for  loving  the  fair  singer  Guil- 
laume de  Cabestaino:,  Richard’s  most  favorite  siiii^er.  But 
the  world-renowned  Blondel  was  not  with  him,  having 
stayed  at  home  Avith  Richard’s  brother,  Geoffrey  Plantage- 
net,  the  father  of  unhappy  little  Arthur  of  Brittany. 

Fit  companions  of  these  troubadours  from  France  Avere  the 
Minnesingers  of  Frederick’s  court  — nobles  and  princes  all  of 
them,  but  all  artist-like  in  the  labor  of  constructing  their 
verses  and  their  music.  One  of  the  most  gifted  of  them 
Avas  the  young  Count  Otto  von  Botenlauben,  Avho  had  come 
to  AAun  the  renoAAUied  Princess  Beatrix,  the  pearl  of  the- 
Orient,  the  reports  of  aaFosc  beauty  had  inflamed  this  young 
German,  even  as  the  reports  of  the  beauty  of  the  Countess 
of  Tripoli  drcAv  the  gay  young  troubadour,  GeoflVey  Rudel , 
the  bosom  friend  of  Geoffrey  Plantagenet  — as  Blondel  Avas 
of  Richard  — oA^er  the  sea  to  Tripoli,  in  the  shadoAV  of  aaRosc 
Avails  the  young  man,  having  been  seized  by  a serious  illness 
on  shipboard,  died  a SAveet  death  in  the  arms  of  the  countess, 
Avho  had  hastened  from  her  palace  to  see  this  strange, 
unknoAvn  lover,  brought  to  her  from  far  over  the  seas  on 
the  Avings  of  death. 

Botenlauben  met  a better  foidune.  He  married  his 
princess,  his  pearl  of  the  Orient,  a daughter  of  the  great 
French  house  of  the  Courtenay,  and  the  castle  Avhere  he 
and  his  Avife  lived  on  their  return  from  the  East  can  still  be 
seen.  Of  his  excellent  songs  the  following  may  serve  as 
fair  specimens  : 

crusader’s  songs,  by  otto  von  botenlauben. 

I. 

^‘Christ’s  reward,  were’t  not  the  very  greatest. 

Never  would  I leave  her  here  to  pine. 

Whom  my  heart  greets  earliest  and  latest. 

Whom  I call  the  kingdom  of  heav’n  of  mine, 

Darling,  who  lives  near  the  River  Rhine, 

Lord,  let  thy  grace  upon  us  shine, 

Let  me  for  myself  and  her  yet  win  that  love  of  thine.” 


Vol.  4,  No.  3—21 


312 


The  Western, 


“ Since  his  kingdom  of  heaven  named  his  heart  me, 

I have  chosen  him  my  God  to  be ! 

Now  can  nothing  ever  from  him  part  me  ; 

Oh  Lord,  be  not  angry,  then,  with  me  ! 

Sure,  my  thornless  eye-delight  is  he. 

Born  to  be  my  joy  on  earth.  Oh,  see, 

Should  he  not  return,  my  joy  were  dead  hopelessly.” 

II. 

I have  chosen  sweetest  woe  to  win  me, 

And  I’ll  cherish’t  o’er  all  flowers’  shine. 

He’s  not  wise  who  deems  this  folly  in  me ; 

Envy  all  times  had  its  hateful  shrine. 

Aye,  through  love  I bear  this  pain  and  pine. 

It  I’ve  chosen  mine,  now  be  thou  mine  ! 

Do  me  as  thou  choosest,  l^dy,  for  the  power  is  thine. 

I recall  to  her  the  pledge  at  leaving 

She  gave  me  ; and  oh  ! the  pledge  was  strong. 

When  returned  I will  abjure  all  grieving, 

Life  would  sicken  stayed  I absent  long. 

She,  for  whom  my  heart  so  sore  doth  long. 

Holds  me  even  with  her  love  so  strong. 

Like  the  nightingale  that  sitteth  dead  from  her  sweet  song. 

Should  I die  from  the  great  grief  and  anguish 
She  works  on  me,  ’twere  an  awful  dread ! 

Let  me  tell  whose  fault  it  is  I languish : 

’Tis  the  fault  of  her  love-mouth  so  red. 

If  I lose  her  long,  then  am  I dead ; 

E’en  her  dear  and  lustrous  eyes  grew  red 

When  I went  to  say  farewell,  and  for  her  blessing  prayed. 

IH. 

Art  most  welcome  to  me,  my  life’s  comfort  thou! 

My  heart’s  delight!  Thou  dearest  man  and  my  own  Lord ! 

God  I’ll  ever  praise  for  this,  that  He  me  now 
From  grief  has  freed ; but  also  thy  great  faith  record. 

For  over  me  a state  of  grievous  doubt  did  pass ; 

Thou  hadst  forgotten  me  so  long,  alas ! 

What  holp  me  my  beauty  ? my  high  name  ? 

Thou  hadst  forgot  me  all  the  same. 

Now  my  heart  with  many  a joy  beats  glorious. 

Since  with  my  arms  thy  body  dear  I held  embraced. 

Dearest  one,  now  tell  me,  art  thou  happy  thus  ? 

Thou  told’st  me  ’bove  all  women  thou  deemed’st  me  most  graced. 


Frederick  Barharossa. 


313 


I gave  thee  on  thy  faith  and  on  thy  virtue,  dear, 

My  crown  of  jo}^  my  flower,  my  youth’s  bloom-year  ! 

Alas,  many  an  evening-yearning’s  sigh, 

' Which  kept  me  wake  till  day-lit  sky ! 

One  of  the  many  incidents  of  this  crusade,  in  its  passage 
through  Minor  Asia,  may  here  hnd  record. 

. In  a fight  with  the  Turks,  near  Philomelinm,  amidst  the 
\ countless  German  knights  of  one  of  the  troops  towered  the 
\ figure  of  a somewhat  slender  but  powerfully  built  young 
knight,  seated  on  a horse  of  rare  vigor  and  beauty.  The 
beard  on  his  rosy  face  could  not  have  been  many  years  old, 
-tis  it  appeared  when  the  stroke  of  a Saracen  saber,  cleaving 
open  the  knight’s  vizor,  exposed  his  young  face  ; and  the 
full,  blue  eyes,  now  aglow  with  the  passion  of  life  and 
death,  seemed  almost  too  young  ever  to  have  looked  or 
drank  more  than  the  faint  flush  of  love’s  first  yearning. 
•On  his  shield  of  azure  blue,  its  edges  of  gold  and  red,  were 
painted  three  narrow  black  stripes,  united  by  a line  of  blue 
set  in  silver,  and  running  through  them.  He  fought  that 
day  so  bravely,  so  recklessly,  that  the  attention  of  his  fel- 
. low-knights  Avas  insensibly  riveted  on  his  feats,  so  that  when, 
•j  in  inconsiderate  pursuit  of  an  enemy,  he  reined  in  his  ex- 
hausted  charger  for  a leap  over  a rather  Avide  ditch,  and  the 
panting  horse,  gathering  in,  tried  to  make  it,  but  broke 
doAvn  and  fell  into  the  ditch  Avith  its  unhappy  horseman, 
there  AA^as  a temporary  stop  of  the*  battle  whilst,  amidst 
great  Availing,  the  troop  hastened  to  rescue  the  body  of 
their  young  companion.  They  found  him  crushed  — dead. 

• A Avriter  of  Cologne,  Godfrey  (1162),  has  chronicled  the 
. event  in  these  Avords  : “ Occiditur  et  ihi  Fridericus  de  Ilusen 
vir  prohus  et  nohilis,  qui  egregujc  laudis  et  honestatis  prce 
omnibus  illo  in  tempore  nomen  acceperut.  Qui  quum  in 
furcos  viriliter  desoeviret,  unumque  ex  eis  acrius  insequeretur ^ 
equus  ejus  fossatum  transiliens  cecidit,  ipseque  suhsequens 
ruina  expiravit.  Super  cujus  morte  tana  in  castris  orta  est 
moestitice^  quod  omissa  pugna  omnes  clamorem  hellicum 
mutuaverunt  in  vocem  flentiumF 


314 


The  Western. 


Frederick  voii  Hiisen  had,  indeed,  been  one  of  the  most 
popnlar  of  the  knights  in  the  German  body  ; and  his  skill 
in  knight-minstrels}^  had  attracted  even  the  attention  of 
the  great  emperor.  He  was  a Siiabian  nobleman,  living 
not  far  from  the  Rhine,  and  had  been  much  admired  at 
home  for  his  gifts  of  song.  Parting  for  the  crusade,  he 
had  bid  painful  farcAvell  to  a lady,  from  whom  something 
else  than  want  of  reciprocated  affection  seems  to  have  parted 
him  ; very  probably  higher  rank  on  her  part.  But,  faithful 
to  her,  he  continued,  along  the  weary  march  of  the  crusade, 
to  send  her,  by  every  opportunity,  new  songs  of  his  pas- 
sion ; and  these  he  sent,  not  by  a regular  love-messenger, 
or  singerlein,  but  by  letter  in  Avriting.  A number  of  these, 
with  other  of  his  songs,  have  been  handed  down  to  us  in 
the  Manessean  collection.  On  his  dead  body  one  of  these 
songs  was  found ; and  it  was  probably  the  ill-humor  Avith 
the  dear  beloved  for  her  constant  refusal  to  accept  his  love 
— for,  says  he  in  one  of  his  songs,  though  she  has  called 
me  her  ^Fneas,  she  does  not  Avant  to  be  my  Dido  — Avhich 
finds  expression  in  this  song,  by  Avhich  he  AA^as  led  to  that 
reckless  exposure  of  his  life  on  the  Monday  after  Ascension 
Day,  in  the  year  1190.  This  is  a translation  of  it : 

THE  crusader’s  DP^PARTURE,  BY  FREDERICK  VON  HUSEN. 

My  heart  and  body  now  ask  separation, 

That  have  together  stayed  so  long  as  one. 

To  fight  the  heathen  is  the  body’s  passion, 

But  to  the  heart  a woman  dear  has  grown 

’Bove  all  the  world.  And  now  I grieve  and  moan 
That  they  no  more  will  walk  in  joined  procession  ! 

My  eyes,  alas,  have  caused  this  tribulation. 

And  this  sad  quarrel  God  can  end  alone. 

Since  I the  heart  cannot  well  turn  aside  now, 

Without  still  leaving  me  more  sorely  grieved, 

I pray  to  God  that  He  bid  thee  abide  now 

Where  thou  most  surely  wilt  be  well  received. 

Alas,  but  how  may’st  thou  there  be  relieved  ? 

How  durst  thou  venture  with  such  woe  to  side  now  ? 

Who  is  to  help  thee  turn  my  grief’s  great  tide  now. 

So  sure  as  at  thy  side  thy  love  achieved  ? 


Frederick  Barharossa. 


815 


I thought  I should  be  free  from  all  this  trouble 
When  I the  cross  of  God  took  upon  me. 

Indeed,  ’twere  right,  and  I’d  with  peace  quick  couple. 
But  that  my  steadfastness  forbids  it  be. 

By  rights  I should  be  full  of  life  and  free. 

Howe’er  my  foolish  will  might  blow  and  bubble. 

Now,  see  I well,  my  will  cares  not  a stubble 

How  things  may  chance  to  me ; ’tis  fate’s  decree  ! 

Let  none  accuse  me  that  I am  unsteady. 

Because  whom  erst  I loved  I now  bear  hate. 

Howe’er  I her  implored,  backward,  ne’er  read}^ 

She  did  as  if  she  understood  not  quite  my  strait. 

It  seems  to  me  her  word  I can  but  rate 

Like  summer  weather  here  — the  changeful  lady! 

I were  a fool  to  humor  her,  and  ready 

Believe  her  still — ’tis,  lady-love,  too  late! 


Here  we  may  also  as  well  mention  two  other  noted  Min- 
nesingers who  accompanied  the  great  crusade  of  Barharossa  : 
Count  Frederick  von  Leiningen  and  Reimarthe  Old.  Count 
Frederick,  a noble  of  great  repute — who  boasted  dating  back 
his  descent  to  a certain  Prince  Eniich  (Emerich,  Embric)  I, 
under  the  Roman  emperor  Severus,  A.  D.  210,  and  whose 
lineage  is  still  in  existence  at  the  present  date  — was  as  beau- 
tiful a singer  as  he  was  famous  for  his  deeds  of  war.  There 
had  descended  upon  him  something  of  the  wild  spirit  of  one 
of  his  forefathers,^ the  dreaded  Rhenish  Count  Emich,  who 
joined  the  ill-fated  crusade  of  1096,  and,  putting  himself  at 
the  head  of  a desperate  band  of  some  20,000  ragamuffins, 
plundered  and  laid  waste  Hungary  and  Bohemia  with  unpar- 
alleled rapacity  and  cruelty.  All  sorts  of  wild  stories  were 
set  afloat  concerning  his  misdeeds.  It  was  said  that  his 
band  carried  along  a goose  and  a goat,  filled,  it  was  given 
out,  with  the  Holy  Ghost,  under  whose  direction  their  out- 
rages were  committed.  But  their  wanton  cruelty  came  to 
grief  at  last,  at  the  siege  of  Misen])urg,  where  a panic  fear 
seized  the  whole  band.  Emich  fled  with  the  rest  of  his 
band,  and  soon  after  meeting  death,  his  spirit  was  compelled 
to  haunt  a mountain  near  the  city  of  Worms,  where,  clad  in 


316 


The  Western. 


red-hot  iron  armor,  he  and  his  crew  were  often  seen 
reviewing  and  asking  the  passers-by  to  pray  for  their 
accursed  souls. 

But  with  all  his  bravery,  which  won  for  him  the  special 
mention  of  an  old,  unknown  poet  who  celebrated  Land- 
grave Louis  V.  of  Thuringen’s  deeds  in  Barbarossa’s  cru- 
sade, Frederick  von  Leiningen  had  one  of  the  gentlest 
hearts,  and  was  a poet  of  deep  feeling  and  delicate  skill. 
The  only  one  of  his  songs  which  has  been  left  to  us  is  one 
of  the  sweetest  in  the  whole  Manassean  collection  of  Min- 
nelieder.  The  simple  piety  of  the  two  last  stanzas  of  the 
poem,  which  are  composed  in  the  then  universally  popular 
form  of  a dialogue  between  a knight  and  his  lady-love,  before 
the  knight’s  departure  for  the  crusade,  is  very  touching  : 

DEPARTURE  FOR  THE  CRUSADE,  BY  COUNT  FREDERICK  VON  LEININGEN. 

Whose  mood  covets  blithe  gladness  should 
Look  out  upon  the  budding  wood ; 

How  May  in  wondrous  glory 
Of  rich,  warm  color  every  guest 
Has  clothed  in  his  very  best; 

The  birds,  at  man’s  grief  sorry 
Prom  their  high  mood  full  many  a tone, 

As  sweetly  forth  it  launches, 

You  hear  ringing  adown  the  vale. 

Pealing  o’er  all  the  nightingale, 

On  green,  leaf-covered  branches. 

Yet  me  it  needs  to  sorrow  still  ;• 

My  heart  pays  toll  on  each  joy’s  thrill, 

While  she  her  grace  keeps  folded; 

She  who  my  heart  bears  in  her  own, 

Ah  me,  why  leaves  she  me  to  moan  ! 

God  so  her  form  has  moulded 
That  nor  my  heart  nor  all  my  mind 
Can  think,  how’ere  they  try  it. 

How  she  could  be  more  beautiful. 

This  lovely  lady  of  my  soul, 

Who  all  my  joy  lays  quiet. 

O Love,  thou  sweet,  dear  counselor. 

Counsel  — and  blessed  be  thou  e’er  — 

My  heart’s  queen,  hear  the  entreaty! 


Fredericl^  Barharossa, 


317 


Counsel  her  to  lend  me  her  aid ; 

Counsel  her  to  turn  sad  to  glad; 

0 lovely  Love,  show  pity  ! 

Since  thou  art  lock  and  thou  art  bolt 
Of  all  my  heart  and  senses, 

Counsel  her,  for  ’tis  sorely  time  ; 

My  comfort,  weal,  with  hers  must  chime ; 

1 burn  in  thy  fire’s  trances ! 

And  must  I thus  depart  from  her. 

Without  her  kindly,  gracious  cheer? 

Ah,  woe,  what  grief  weighs  on  me  ! 

It  fills  my  life  with  sore  dismay ; 

Mercy,  thou  blessed  woman  stay ! 

And  look  not  cold  upon  me  ! 

Soften  a little,  pray,  thy  mood. 

And  with  red  mouth  say,  greeting. 

Nought  but  four  words,  and  these  alone 
Shall  lift  my  soul  to  rapture’s  throne  : 

“Farewell  till  happier  meeting!” 

“Farewell  till  happier  meeting,  then ! 

God  keep  thy  life  and  soul  from  bane ; 

Thy  weal  and  fame  forever! 

If  thy  return  can  haste  my  prayer. 

Suit,  and  entreaty,  God  knows,  dear. 

My  prayers  shall  resten  never. 

Since  thy  departure  is  to  be, 

Two  hearts  with  thee  thou  bearest; 

Both  mine  and  thine,  both  full  of  woe  ; 

. Sadly  I mourn,  love,  thou  shouldst  go  — 

Christ  be  thy  guide,  my  dearest!” 

Reimar,  surnamed  the  Old,  by  the  Minnesingers,  to  dis- 
tinguish him  from  several  other  Reimars  of  that  time,  was, 
before  his  pupil  Walther  von  der  Vogelweide  began  to  sing, 
undoubtedly  the  foremost  knight-minstrel  of  that  age.  In 
early  youth,  a knight  without  money,  he  had  entered  the 
service  of  Leopold  VI.,  second  Duke  of  Austria,  the  son  of 
Duke  Henry  YesthusynegodF  for  whose  special  benefit 
Austria  had  been  made  a dukedom  when  Barbarossa  restored 
to  Henry  the  Lion  the  Dukedom  of  Bavaria,  which  Duke 
Henry  Yesthusmegod  had  inherited  from  his  father.  A 
favorite  oath  had  given  rise  to  this  comicaf  nickname,  and  it 


318 


The  Western. 


would  have  been  a great  blessing  if  every  Henry  and  Fred- 
erick of  the  countless  principalities  of  the  Germany  of  those 
clays  had  been  considerate  enough,  for  the  sake  of  future 
historians  and  history-readers,  to  have  thus  invented  an 
original  oath  for  a second  name  and  distinctive  alias. 

Reimar  soon  distinguished  himself  in  his  art,  and  be- 
came the  pet  poet  of  Vienna.  A simple-minded,  noble 
soul,  and  true  artist  in  every  sense  of  the  word;  very 
properly  preferring  his  art  to  the  stupid  breaking  of  lances, 
at  the  risk  of  his  bones,  in  tourneys,  or,  still  worse,  to  risk- 
ing his  life  in  absurd  battles  for  so-called  glory.  Yet  his 
great  attachment  to  Duke  Leopold  led  him  to  accompany 
his  lord  on  that  Barbarossa  crusade,  wherein  Leopold  dis- 
tinguished himself  greatly  at  the  famous  siege  of  Akkon, 
but  also  considerably  disgraced  himself  by  his  quarrel  with 
the  lion-hearted  Richard  of  England,  and  deeply  so  when, 
after  his  return  to  Austria,  he  made  Richard  a prisoner  and 
delivered  him  over  to  Emperor  Henry  VI.,  who  kept  him 
confined  till  poor,  faithful  Blondell  sought  him  up  and  sang 
to  him  the  touching  song,  “Oh,  Richard,  oh  mon  roi ! 
L’universe  t’abandonne,”  which,  on  a far  later  occasion, 
sounded  the  death-knell  of  Louis  XVI.  The  following 
songs  will  characterize  the  skill  and  poetic  feeling  of  the 
old  singer.  The  last  and  most  beautiful  of  them  laments 
the  death  of  his  beloved  patron,  who  died  by  a fall  from  his 
horse,  whilst  preparing  to  join  a new  crusade,  on  the  last 
day  of  the  year  1194.  The  lament  is  in  accordance  with 
the  spirit  of  the  times,  aptly  put  in  the  mouth  of  a loving 
woman  mourning  the  death  of  her  lover. 

CRUSADE  SONGS  BY  REIMAR  THE  OLD. 

. I. 

The  Lady^s  Message  to  her  Crusader. 

Dearest  messenger,  now  hear, 

Thou  art  thus  to  act!  Say  this, 

If  he’s  well  and  of  good  cheer. 

That  my  life  still  cheerier  is. 


Frederick  Barhavossa. 


319 


Tell  him  that  it  is  will 

He  should  never  be  of  anything  guilty  — that  would  part  us 
for  our  ill. 

Asks  he  my  behavior,  say 
That  I live  in  happiness. 

If  thou  canst,  lead  from’t  awa}^ 

Then  I need  not  speech  repress. 

I love  him  with  heart  full  well, 

And  would  rather  see  him  than  the  daylight  — but  this  must 
thou  never  tell. 

Ere  thou  ever  tellest  him  aught, 

How  that  I love  him  so  dearl}^ 

Eirst  look  thou,  and  be  now  taught, 

All  his  ways  observe  thou  nearly, 

Whether  his  love  me  true  did  stay  ! 

Then,  whatever  may  impart  him  pleasure  — dearest  messenger 
mine,  that  say. 

Speaks  he  of  coming  home  to  abide, 

Wouldst  thou  well  rewarded  be. 

Tell  him  that  speech  to  avoid 
AVhich  he  ere  while  spoke  to  me ; 

Then  may  I him  look  upon. 

Why  will  he  me  always  with  that  worry  — which  can  never- 
more be  done  ? 

What  he  wants,  look,  that  strikes  dead. 

And  does  many  a life  destroy. 

Pale  without  a shade  of  red 

It. fades  woman  — passion’s  toy  ; 

Love,  men  call  it ! But,  O men. 

Rather  should  you  unlove  name  and  call  it  — woe  him  who  it 
first  began ! 

That  I’ve  said  so  much,  much  more 
Than  I meant,  now  me  annoys; 

I was  never  used  before 

To  such  burden  as  now  lies 

In  my  heart  with  woe  down-weighed. 

Now,  list:  thou  must  never,  never  tell  him  — what  I here  to 
thee  have  said. 


II. 

The  Lady  and  the  Messenger. 

^‘Tell  me.  I’ll  reward  thee  neatly, 

Hast  thou  seen  the  dear  knight?  is  it  true? 
Does  he  live,  and  lives  he  fitly. 

As  they  say,  and  as  thou  told’st  me,  too  ?” 


320 


The  Western. 


“ Dame,  I saw  him,  glad  with  joy, 

And  his  heart  stood,  as  you  ever  bid  it,  high.” 

“Pleasure  I forbade  him  never. 

So  but  in  one  thing  he  keep  recluse. 

This  I pray  to-day  and  ever  ; 

It’s  a prayer  which  he  should  not  refuse.” 

“Dame,  now  trip  not  in  your  speech  ! 

He  says  all  is  done  that  should  be  — each  thing,  each !’' 

“List,  he  promised,  o’er  and  o’er  it. 

That  he’d  never  sing  a song  again, 

Unless  I should  ask  him  for  it !” 

“Dame  what  time  I left,  so  did  he  then  ; 

And  you  surely  must  have  heard  ” — 

“Alas,  if  I ask  him  now.  I’ll  rue  the  word. 

“Yet,  if  I do  not  implore  it. 

Then  I lose  in  him  my  happiness ; 

And  the  people’ll  curse  me  for  it, 

That  from  all  the  world  I keep  such  grace. 

Everywhere  care  glooms  my  lot ; 

Alas,  now  I know  not,  shall  I do’t  or  not  ? 

“ That  we  women  win  not  ever 

Friend  by  speech,  unless  they’re  so  inclined. 

Grieves  me.  Court  him,  I will  never. 

Steadfast  women  hurt  unsteadfast  mind. 

Were  I,  as  I e’en  not  seem,  * 

Unsteadfast,  then,  if  he  left  me,  I’d  leave  him.” 

- III. 

Song  of  the  Crusader. 

The  day  I put  the  cross  on  me 
I chose  my  thoughts,  discarding  some. 

To  fit  the  sign  most  properly. 

And  as  true  pilgrim  might  become. 

And  then  they  seemed  to  me  to  God  all  given. 

So  that  their  very  feet  seemed  to  His  worship  riven. 

But  now  they  claim  their  own  will,  and  alone  go  as  before  again. 

And  now  this  grief’s  not  mine  alone,  but  also  grieves  sore  other  men. 

In  all  things  else  I should  lack  naught. 

If  but  my  thoughts  would  keep  more  staid ; 

That  God  whom  here  to  serve  I ought. 

They  do  not  so  to  praise  lend  aid  ' 

As  I require,  and  as ’t  would  be  my  glory. 

They  still  keep  straying  back  to  some  old  story. 

And  think  that  I’m  to  pleasure  given  still,  as  I was  hitherto  — 

Oh  Mother,  Maid,  check  thou  their  bent,  since  I cannot,  whate’er  I do. 


Frederick  Barharossa. 


321 


Not  that  these  thoughts  I’ll  ever  quite 
Forbid  t’xplore  their  own  thought-land ! 

I allow  them  all  things  that  are  right, 

But  ask  them,  on  the  other  hand. 

That,  after  both  our  friends  they’ve  greeting  given. 

They  should  return  and  help  atone  my  sins  to  heaven  — 

Then  be  them  everything  forgiven  that  they’ve  done  to  me  of  ill ; 

But  I fear  their  deceitfulness,  and  that  they’ll  try  to  cheat  me  still. 

Blessed  is  pleasure ! Blessed  he 

Who  may  a part  of ’t  win  him  aye ! 

Albeit  I now  from  it  am  free. 

Yet  have  I seen  everywhile  the  day, 

When  e’en  the  whole  night  long  it  would  me  flurry ; 

But  now  1 have  forgotten  that  with  other  worrj^! 

The  steps  are  broken  on  the  ladder,  that  me  then  to  pleasure  led  ; 

And  no  one  can  lead  back  me  thence,  unless  my  will  and  I lend  aid ! 

IV. 

Homeward  from  the  Crusade. 

Methinks  love’s  going  to  come  to  me  ; 

My  heart  soars  up  in  play  and  glee, 

My  mood  swings  up  to  cheerful  joys. 

Like  to  the  falcon,  as  he  flies. 

And  like  the  e^le  turning  ! 

The  friends  that  I left  mourning. 

Oh,  blessed  I,  if  I then  find 
As  I left  them,  in  body  and  mind! 

Good  ever3^thing  about  her  is  ! 

Oh  God,  do  Thou  but  grant  me  this. 

That  I may  soon  be  with  her ; 

Lead  me,  then,  safely  thither ! 

And,  if  of  care  she  has  any  kind. 

Grant  I maj’  it  scatter — e’en  as  she  must  clear  my  mind  I 
Then  may  we  quaff  true  pleasure  ! 

Then  blessed  I the  whole  night  long  — [could  one  wish  dearer  treasure  ? 

V. 

On  the  Death  of  Duke  Leopold  VI. 

They  say  that  summer  is  here  now, 

That  pleasures  new  awaken. 

And  that  I ought  joy  to  my  heart  restore. 

But  counsel  me  and  tell  me.  How? 

Since  death  from  me  hath  taken  — 

Oh  God  ! I cannot  get  o’er  it  evermore  ! 


322 


The  Western. 


What  need  I to  go  in  search  of  mirth  ? 

Since  all  my  mirth’s  sole  lord,  Leopold,  lieth  in  the  earth! 

Whom  I saw  mourning  ne’er  a day. 

And  lo,  the  world  in  him  has  lost 

As  never  in  any  man  so  great  — so  sad  a loss  it  had  for  aye. 

Poor  woman  I!  I felt  so  well 
When’ere  I thought  of  him. 

And  how  that  all  m}’  weal  was  in  him  wrapt ! 

But  now,  that  I no  longer  shall 

Have  him,  a misery  grim 

Over  what  life  I yet  may  live  has  swept. 

He,  my  rapture’s  mirror,  he  is  gone  I 

Whom  I for  summer,  eye-delight  had  chosen  me  and  won, 

Him  I must  learn  to  do  without ! 

When  I was  told  that  he  was  dead. 

Straightway  the  blood  rushed  from  my  heart,  and  all  my  senses  put 
to  rout. 

From  cheerfulness  bid  me  abstain; 

My  dear  lord’s  death,  ah,  me  I 
Tells  me  to  bid  it  farewell  evermore; 

And  since  him  I can  ne’er  regain 
My  grief  kills  me.  Oh,  see  ! 

How  all  my  mourning  heart  is  still  so  sore  ! 

She  who  mourns  him  always,  it  is  I! 

Oh,  that  the  ever  blessed  man  could  live  and  I could  die  ! 

But  he  is  gone  ; what  do  I here  ? 

Be  merciful  to  him,  oh  God ! 

More  virtuous  guest  drew  ne’er  yet  to  Thy  host  of  heaven  near ! 

The  unhappy  end  of  this  third  crusade  is  known  to  all. 
Barbarossa  fortunately  did  not  live  to  witness  its  disastrous 
conclusion.  On  the  march,  false  news  was  brought  him 
that  his  son  (Henry  YI.)  was  dead.  Tears  trickled  down 
his  now  snow-white  beard,  but  as  soon  as  he  could  compose 
himself  he  cried  out,  “My  son  is  dead,  but  Christ  lives! 
Forward  I”  After  most  vexations  marches  over  the  terri- 
tories of  the  Greek  Empire,  deceived  at  every  step  by  the 
cunning  treachery  of  the  Emperor  Commenius,  Frederick, 
at  the  head  of  what  little  remained  of  his  army,  was  never- 
theless advancing  in  triumph,  after  having  stormed  and 
taken  the  capital  of  the  Sultan  of  Credi,  when  he  was 


Letter  on  France. 


323 


unfortunately  drowned  in  attempting  to  cross  a river.  But 
in  the  heart  of  the  German  people  his  memory  continued  to 
linger  for  ages,  and  imagination  transported  him  to  the 
KA^ffhaeuser  c^e,  Avhere,  sitting  on  a stone  bench,  and 
leaning  his  arms  on  a stone  table,  he  still  awaits  the  coming 
glory  of  a happy,  reunited  Germany,  for  it  is  a grave  error 
to  suppose  that  the  Hohenzollerii  Empire  has  as  yet  real- 
ized that  ideal.  It  not  only  still  lacks  integral  parts  of 
Germany  proper,  but,  above  all,  individual  political  freedom 
and  that  full  religious  freedom  without  which  the  conflict 
between  the  German  Empire  and  the  Boman  Catholic 
(j^hurch  can  never  And  thorough  settlement,  and  Avhich  has 
io  happily  protected  our  own  republic  from  a like  disas- 
trous conflict. 

A.  E.  Kroeger. 


* LETTER  ON  FRANCE. 

VICTOR  HUGO  AND  HIS  CONTEMPORARIES  IN  VERSE  AND  ART. 

Victor  Hugo  stands  a head  and  shoulders  above  all  his 
contemporaries  in  mental  height  except  George  Sand, 
whose  fervid,  flowing  eloquence,  dramatic  vividness  of  char- 
acterization, and  S3nnpathy  Avith  all  oppressed  classes,  lifted 
her  to  an  equal  level  as  a literary  artist.  Alfred  Musset 
perhaps  approached  more  nearly  than  the  others,  by  his 
sensibility  and  originality,  which  rendered  his  poems,  though 
full  of  a certain  romantic  melancholy,  more  akin  to  nature 
than  any  utterance  Avhich  France  had  heard  from  her  poets 
for  centuries. 

But  the  rest,  Gautier,  Baudelaire,  Leconte  de  Lisle,  M. 
Lafayette,  are  all  cold-blooded,  scientific  rather  than  crea- 
tive, given  to  analysis,  polish,  carving,  Avith  exquisite  deli- 
cacy, it  is  true,  but  the  tools  are  guided  by  a hand  that  feels 


324 


The  Western. 


no  thrill  of  any  poetic  fire  leaping  in  its  veins.  They 
believe  nothing,  they  revere  nothing,  they  love  nothing, 
except,  perhaps,  art,  with  the  cool  selection  of  a cultured 
taste  ; their  hopes  are  not  ardent,  except  when,  as  in  M. 
Lafayette,  a social  purpose  and  a political  aim  seem  to 
arouse  some  masculine  vigor  of  tone. 

They  bring  before  you  always  the  artist,  his  studio  with 
its  well-arranged  Oriental  stuffs  and  silken  folds  hanging  in 
studied  ease,  its  veiled  lights  and  softened  shadows,  its 
tools ; and  one  never  breathes  freely,  or  hears  the  ringing 
of  spontaneous  melody,  or  catches  a glimpse  of  wild  grace 
or  merriment,  as  in  the  old  Greek  world  which  they  affect 
to  adore.  Even  M.  Coppees’  idyls  are  those  of  closed  gar- 
dens and  well  laid-out  grounds.  Theophile  Gautier  well 
entitled  his  poems  “ Emaux  et  Camees,”  for  in  every  line 
is  the  touch  of  the  chisel  and  polishing  tools  ; and  Catulle 
Mendes,  in  his  “ Midnight  Sun,”  and  Leconte  de  Lisle,  in 
his  poems  of  “India,”  too  artfully  dispose  contrasts  and 
effects  to  transport  us  with  the  cold,  weird  snow-light  of  the 
one,  or  the  glow  and  odor  of  the  other.  As  for  Charles 
Baudelaire,  he  dissects,  analyzes,  investigates,  every  human 
emotion,  good  or  evil,  woe  or  joy. 

We  see  the  same  spirit  in  their  art : in  Corot’s  soft,  shad- 
owy, idyllic  landscapes,  with  their  subtle  studies  of  the 
relations  of  color ; in  the  elaborate  technique  of  Andre  and 
Meissonier ; in  the  numberless  pictures  of  court  scenes  and 
classic  subjects,  where  the  gorgeous  costumes,  exquisite 
textures,  costly  jewels,  sparkling  wines,  shining  bronzes, 
wonderful  effects  of  light  and  shade,  stand  iu  bold  and  sen- 
sational contrast  with  some  grim  and  ghastly  theme  of  death 
or  old  age,  as  in  the  “Death  of  Nero,”  “ Son  Eminence 
Grise,”  “ The  Christian  Martyr,”  etc.  Here  is  again  the 
same  careful  study,  exquisite  workmanship,  dramatic  con- 
trast, but  no  fire,  force,  vitality  ! It  is  but  art ; not  life. 

Both  in  artist  and  verse- writer  (for  we  can  scarcely  use 
the  old,  divine  name  of  poet,  which  Homer,  Shakespeare, 


Letter  on  France. 


325 


and  Dante  bore,  for  sueh  as  these)  we  find  the  same  tone 
of  eastern  scenes  and  effects.  In  Dore’s  painting,  “ Find- 
ing the  True  Cross,”  the  whole  scene  glows  with  Oriental 
sunshine  and  color,  and  upon  the  jeweled  miters  and  gold- 
wrought  garments,  the  swinging  of  censers,  the  long  ranks 
of  the  armed  crusaders,  beats  a noonday  light  and  splen- 
dor. All  the  rich  and  fantastic  coloring  of  Diaz  is  Oriental ; 
and  on  the  walls  of  the  salon  you  see  Arab  sportsmen  fly- 
ing their  hawks,  the  rest  by  the  palm  trees  of  the  desert, 
the  slave-market',  the  bazaar  of  the  East.  In  Leconte  de 
Lisle’s  poems  you  hear,  as  a recent  critic  beautifully  says, 
the  sj'stemical  stepping  of  the  Hindoo  bearers,  and  perceive 
the  strange,  rich  odors  of  tropical  forests.  The  names  of 
his  verses,  the  “Sleep  of  the  Condor,”  “The  South,” 
“ The  Jungles,”  “ The  Fountain  of  Lianas,”  are  redolent 
with  such  glow  and  still  rest,  of  such  springing  freshness 
amid  parching  heats,  such  thick  and  shadowy  retreats  from 
hot  noon,  as  the  lands  of  the  East  and  South  only  show. 

All  this  is  artistic,  but  it  has  no  vital  strength.  The 
school  of  art  and  literature  in  France  which  possesses 
stamina  and  endurance  is  the  sympathetic  school,  which 
boasts  the  name  of  Millet,  with  his  grand  epics  of  labor  dis- 
played in  his  pictures  of  the  working  and  agricultural  life 
of  France  ; of  Breton  and  Frere,  whose  homely  scenes  have 
a tenderness  and  power  which  the  cooler  analyst  of  emo- 
tion never  reaches  ; of  Kosa  Bonheur  and  Jacques,  who 
enter  into  the  lowly  lives  of  animals,  and  portray  their  days 
with  the  power  of  life.  In  literature.  Sully  Prudhomme 
shows  a tenderness  and  insight  that  promises  much ; the 
author  of  “The  Attic  Philosopher”  describes  with  loving 
minuteness  the  innocent  pleasures  and  cares  of  a quiet  life  ; 
and  George  Sand  has  done  for  the  peasant  in  words  whjit 
Millet’s  canvas  has  accomplished  in  art. 

It  is  here,  in  earnestness,  sympathy,  feeling,  that  Victor 
Hugo  shows  his  true  power.  He  writes  for  the  people,  lie 
feels  with  them,  he  loves  them  ; therefore  his  writings  are 


326 


The  Western, 


full  of  aspirations  and  hope;  and  he  says:  “ Let  us  look 
always  toward  the  dawn,  the  blossoming,  the  birth  ; that 
which  falls  encourages  that  which  arises.”  (“93.”)  And 
again,  in  the  same  work  : “ Each  of  those  degrees  — father, 
mother,  city,  country,  humanity  — is  one  of  the  rungs  of 
the  ladder  which  leads  to  God.”  He  thrills  with  the  power 
and  life  of  the  new  age,  but  is  not  faithless  to  the  old  herit- 
age ; while  he  speaks  of  the  quickening  power  of  a great 
city  which  civilizes,  he  does  not  forget  the  rest  of  the  coun- 
try which  is  the  universal  mother ; and  he  holds  humanity 
as  the  great  ancestor  of  all. 

“ Les  Miserables,”  unreal,  sensational,  dramatic  as  it 
may  appear  to  the  more  quiet  reader  of  English  blood,  is 
filed  with  an  earnest  pity  for  all  classes  that  sulfer,  with  a 
genuine  endeavor  to  comprehend  and  ameliorate  their  situ- 
ation ; nor  is  the  sympathy  that  embraces  Javert,  the  police- 
man, inflexible,  severe,  and  Jean  Valjean,  the  escajoed  con- 
vict, narrow  or  one-sided. 

Victor  Hugo’s  own  life,  his  enjoyment  of  the  household, 
his  tender  love  for  his  sons,  both  of  whom  he  has  followed 
to  the  grave,  his  gentleness  and  devotion  to  his  two  delicate 
grandchildren,  have  taught  him  the  great  lessons  of  love 
with  deep  reality.  We  see  the  little  footsteps  of  “ le  petit 
Georges”  and  his  sister,  Jeanne,  in  many  a work  of  this 
threat  author.  What  is  more  touchino^  and  artless  than  the 
little  ones  in  “93”  who  hear  the  boominof  of  the  i^reat 
cannon  and  lisp  a soft  mimicry  of  the  sound?  In  “ Les 
Miserables,”  even  the  gamin  — the  urchin  of  street-corners 
and  alleys  — is  painted  with  the  vividness  and  accuracy  of 
one  who  has  listened  not  unlovingly  to  his  audacious 
repartees  and  acute  words. 

But  in  “ Cosette,”  the  little,  forsaken,  motherless  child, 
trembling  in  the  dark  of  the  forest,  hearing  strange  rustlings 
and  movements  in  every  swinging  bough  or  breaking  twig, 
peopling  the  shadows  with  undefined  and  vague  figures  — 
there  is  the  touch  of  one  who  has  made  the  child’s  world, 


The  Soul  ’5  Complaint  of  the  Body, 


327 


the  chikrs  soul  his  own.  Nor  should  we  envy  the  reader 
who  could  reach,  without  delio’ht,  the  climax  where  the 
poor  little  creature  suddenly  hiids  herself  the  rich  pos- 
sessor of  a wonderful  and  beautiful  doll.  In  such  passages 
as  these  we  forget  the  writer  to  love  the  man,  who,  with 
tears  scarcely  dried  for  his  beloved  sons,  is  at  once  father 
and  mother  to  the  little  children  left  in  his  care,  and  who 
spends  hours  in  amusing  them  with  recitation  and  storv, 
nor  ever  wearies  of  the  little  troubles  and  petty  amusements 
of  their  infancy. 

E.  F.  Morley. 


THE  SOUL’S  COMPLAINT  OF  THE  BODY, 

From  the  Anglo-Saxon. 


BY  MYRON  B.  BENTON. 


Much  it  behooveth 
Mortals,  each  one, 

To  ponder  whence  moveth 
The  Soul  ever  on. 

Death,  cdtning,  smiteth 
Midst  terror  and  dole  ; 

His  stroke  disuniteth 
Body  and  Soul. 

Long  the  Soul  waiteth 
Ere  it  shall  go 

Where  the  Lord’s  hand  mateth 
With  weal  or  with  woe  ; 

As  its  pilgrimage,  slowly 
It  wandered  from  birth  — 

Painful  and  lowly, 

Toiling  on  Earth. 

As  e’en  night  swift  fleeteth  ; 
Then,  wailing  aloud, 

The  Ghost  coming  meeteth 
Its  body  in  shroud. 


Vol.  4.  No.  3-22 


328 


The  Western, 


There  winters  three  hundred 
Shall  o’er  it  be  hurled  — 

If  the  Lord  hath  not  thundered 
The  End  of  the  World ! 

So  weary,  then  speaketh 
The  wan,  chilly  Ghost ! 

Cold  utterance  wreaketh 
Upon  the  low  dust; 

O dry  Dust,  dreary  one. 

For  me  little  strife 
Or  care  hadst  thou,  weary  one, 
All  thy  long  life ! 

Now  in  earth  darkly 

Thou  makest  thy  home  — 
Lying  so  starkly  — 

Rotting  in  loam ! 

Little  was  heeding 
Thy  life  upon  Earth 
Of  thy  Soul  ever  speeding 
Its  journey  swift  forth. 


EQUALITY  OF  THE  SCHOOL  SYSTEM. 

I propose  in  this  paper  to  introduce,  by  wa}"  of  general 
discussion,  a subject  which  has  attracted  my  notice,  and 
upon  which  I have  bestowed  some  reflection,  as  one  who  for 
a long  time  was  connected,  in  different  capacities,  with  our 
school  system,  and  who  still  feels  a deep  interest  in  its  vari- 
ous workings,  and  especially  in  its  direct  and  remote  tend- 
encies, not  only  upon  the  people,  but  also  upon  the  social 
and  political  institutions  of  the  country.  I,  however,  intend 
this  as  nothing  more  than  an  introduction  of  the  subject, 
which  others  can  follow  up  with  fuller  details  and  with 
a more  elaborate  discussion,  if  they  shall  deem  the  subject 
of  sufficient  importance. 

In  the  observations  which  I am  about  to  make  I shall 
have  reference  to  the  school  system  of  the  United  States, 
or,  perhaps  I should  rather  say,  to  the  school  systems  of 


An  Imjoroved  English  Alphabet, 


341 


'of  spelling  reform  — East,  West,  North,  South  — are  laboring 
to  bring  out  an  alphabet  beautiful  and  simple  in  form,  and 
adapted  to  our  eveiy-day  wants  in  writing  and  printing. 

The  old  proverb,  “ Words  are  the  coin  of  fools,  but  the 
counters  of  wise  men,”  needs  to  be  ground  deeply  into  the 
public  consciousness.  There  are  so  many  persons  who  really 
deify  onr  present  uncouth  and  barbarous  orthography  that 
it  is  necessary  to  convince  them  that  the  forms  of  our  words 
are  not  sacred  things.  Most  of  these  forms  are  crystallized 
1)lunders.  But  in  this  age,  when  improvement  and  progress 
is  the  order  of  the  day ; when  improved  implements  and 
machinery  increase  production  an  hundredfold  ; when  steam- 
ships, steam-cars,  and  telegraphs  bring  the  ends  of  the  earth 
into  close  proximity,  it  becomes  a prime  necessity  that  the 
forms  of  written  lano:uao:e  should  be  reduced  to  the  minimum 
degree  of  simplicity. 

According  to  our  standard  dictionaries,  there  are  about 
forty-four  distinct  elementary  sounds,  which  must  be  care- 
fully discriminated  in  order  to  pronounce  English  with 
accuracy  and  elegance.  This  includes  diphthongs.  To  rep- 
resent these  forty-four  sounds  we  have  only  twenty-three 
letters,  k,  q,  and  x being  duplicates.  For  want  of  a suffi- 
cient number  of  signs,  we  have  resorted  to  the  use  of 
digraphs  and  trigraphs,  which  have  become  so  numerous 
and  indefinite  as  to  necessitate  the  learning  of  each  word 
separately  — an  almost  endless  task.  To  illustrate  : The 
twenty  voAvels  and  diphthongs,  Avhich  one  must  discriminate 
in  pronouncing  words  according  to  the  best  authorities,  are 
represented  by  forty-two  letters  and  combinations  of  letters, 
without  taking  into  consideration  the  number  of  times  that 
e,  i,  u,  and  y are  used  as  consonants.  These  forty-two 
combinations  represent  the  vowels  in  133  different  ways. 

Now,  the  great  task  imposed  upon  children  in  learning  the 
Avritten  language  is  the  almost  insuperable  difficulty  of 
learning  when  a certain  combination  or  letter  has  a given 
-sound.  For  instance,  the  sound  of  long  e is  represented  in 


342 


The  Western, 


twelve  different  Avays,  viz.  : Be,  pique,  poeaii,  foetus,  read, 
bee,  seize,  people,  key,  grief,  quay,  Ypres.  If  the  same- 
combination  did  not  note  other  sounds,  the  difficulty  Avould 
be  lessened  ; but  e notes  five  sounds,  i notes  eleven  sounds, 
ai  notes  two  sounds,  oe  notes  two  sounds,  ea  notes  seven 
sounds  ; ee  notes  three  sounds  ; ei  notes  six  sounds  ; eo- 
notes  seven  sounds,  ey  notes  three  sounds,  ie  notes  six 
sounds,  nay  notes  one  sound,  and  y notes  five  sounds.  Now, 
a child,  in  order  to  learn  to  read,  must  reall}^  learn  fifty-two 
arbitrary  signs  for  the  same  sound.  Hence  the  real  gain  in 
having  a single  sign  for  each  elementary  sound,  and  for  each 
sign  to  note  but  one  sound,  Avould  be  in  this  case  5100  per 
cent.  In  some  other  cases  it  Avould  not  be  so  lai-ge,  but  on 
the  A\diole  this  qiLinquaginta-]}Vv(i\xt\o\\  ( fiftAdbldness)  of  signs 
is  the  real  cause  of  difficulty,  and  is  the  impediment  to  be 
overcome.  Owing  to  this  great  confusion  in  the  use  of 
signs,  a vast  amount  of  time  and  money  is  annuall}"  squan- 
dered. It  is  estimated  that  two  years,  at  least,  of  eveiy 
child’s  life  is  consumed  by  this  waste  of  learning  to  read 
and  spell ; and,  since  the  average  time  spent  in  school  is  about 
three  years,  two-thirds  of  the  precious  time  of  the  school 
life  of  the  child  is  actually  Avasted.  The  effort  to  learn  to 
pronounce  and  spell  our  English  Avords  is  so  great  that  the 
form  of  language  must  be  made  prominent,  to  the  neglect 
of  the  sense  of  Avords  and  elegance  in  diction.  Grammar, 
Avhich  in  other  languages  teaches  orthography,  etymology, 
syntax,  and  prosody,  has  become  an  ineffectual  instrumeut 
of  culture,  as  it  no  longer  teaches  pupils  to  speak  and  AAu-ite 
correct  English.  One  able  Avriter  estimates  that  15,000,000 
of  school  years  are  Avasted  in  each  generation,  in  the  United 
States  alone,  through  our  conglomerate  orthography,  and 
another  that  $15,000,000  are  for  the  same  reason  annuallv 
Avasted  in  primary  instruction.  If  a phonetic  method*  of 
Avriting  and  printing  AA^ere  adopted,  better  results  than  AA^e 
noAA^  get  in  this  city  could  be  obtained  at  an  actual  annual 
saving  of  $200,000.  The  youth  of  this  city  might  thus,  at 


